I've got a ticket to the fast city,
where the bells don't really ring,
getting off the plane the cold air
rushes like bullets through my brain.
And I'm divided between pinguins and cats,
but its not about what animal you've got,
its about being able to fly
its about dying nine times.
Walked on broadway, going up to falls,
where the old man I used to know,
the paintings on the walls of release
are colourful but they are no matisse.
And I'm divided between pinguins and cats,
but its not about what animal you've got,
its about being able to fly
its about dying nine times.

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JustSomeLyrics
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