Accueil  💃🎤 Paroles de chanson Française et Internationnales

The brand reads “Animal Farm”
A fugee on the lam, runnin´ with a lamb in my arms
Trail of rabbits harboring the farmer´s brand of cigars

And cattle after, after that it´s like a ramp to an arc
Planned a garlic salmon, already romancing the fingerlings
When reminded why the ringer´s off, it only ever “ring ring ring”
Out of radio silence a bad miracle
Panic in the paradigm, attacking the familiar world
Evacuate, bleeding heart, I had to let the horses out
Who each step forward to bow free to ignore the corral
Freedom ain´t a circle per the management´s “normal amount”
It´s when the chorus vow to normalize the horse´s mouth
Black Philip free to b-a-a what he b-a-a´s

From a growing blob of jail-broken oxen and hogs
I know some pigs´ll splinter off I seen ‘em mixing with the bosses
Sipping gin, as if the trough is less prestigious than the office
It isn´t, receiving a transmission from the future
Where your time around them humans ain´t protect you from they butcher´s Block, a bunch of us are meeting at the moor behind the the Orkin
You coulda been a presence at the origin
Should you feel unsettled or some melting into madness
After entertaining more second chances than Velma´s glasses
From a person place or otherwise increasingly disruptive trend
You could always run the red, or break the glass or jump the fence, yea

It was always all of a sudden
All´s well ´til it´s all of his palm on the button
I am always into something
I am always into something

It was always all a whodunnit,
All told, it was all of us up ´til it wasn´t
I am always into something
I am always into something

I am always into something

I am always into something

I am always into something

I am always into something

I can introduce you to another realm
Help you with the move, but only you can go fuck yourself
Cut to helter-skelter in glorious technicolor
With bumper to bumper sending turtle shells at one another
It´s treasure hunters budding in some cannonball running of bulls
Sweating in the dead of summer, red X on the bread and butter
Pardon while his pedal power shed the inseparable umbra
Reset the pecking order, still ain´t pick a second number
Detective on some "how you get so mega extra ultra?"

I said "never check the weather and always dress for the tundra"
Merry “Dawn of the Mummy”, heard a call in my slumber
Woke to a thousand years of sauce of the month in a bunker
Yum, you could be the lunker under pepper X,
I feel like professor why, why are all my friends depressed?
Why´s this party feel like when I walked back into Selmer´s Pets
In precious tears like “why are all my tetra dead... yet again?
Landspeed entirely contextual
Glacial-pace grand prix, “space invader camera B!”
Cam or not, copy room, camp ground or canteen
Every time you stand down, I pop out yelling “and… scene!”

Make a million paper cranes, blindfolded
Both arms stuck in different crane games
Underwater, over coals, whole of his spirit above him
Call now, I am always into something

I am always into something

I am always into something

I am always into something

I am always into something