Pixies. Bossanova. Allison. Zeneszám

From distant star to this here bar
The me, the you, where are we now?
Hurray the blues of everyone
Allison

Keeps a smile around a while
He took no fright and jettisoned
We'll go tonight to hear him tell
"Oh well, Allison"

And when the planet hit the sun
I saw the face of Allison
Allison, Allison, Allison, Allison