Stereolab. Infinity Girl. Zeneszám
New realities are conditions
Much too little for us to suffer
Because we don't know any better
There are a hundred ways to fall in step
New realities are conditions
Much too little for us to suffer
Because we don't know any better
There are a hundred ways to fall in step
Because for the past two hundred years
The wine drunk and the freedom proclaimed
Oh are dubious and laughable
Waiting to yield a new use of life
Scatter, scatter brained by the sins, sins of silence
Scatter, scatter brained by the sins, sins of silence
Scatter, scatter brained by the sins, sins of silence
Scatter, scatter brained by the sins, sins of silence
Scatter, scatter brained by the sins, sins of silence
A knife to cut the root, the root of ignorance
A knife to cut the root, the root of ignorance
Scatter, scatter brained by the sins, sins of silence
Scatter, scatter brained by the sins, sins of silence
New realities are conditions
Much too little for us to suffer
Because we don't know any better
There are a hundred ways to fall in step
Because for the past two hundred years
The wine drunk and the freedom proclaimed
Oh are dubious and laughable
Waiting to yield a new use of life
Much too little for us to suffer
Because we don't know any better
There are a hundred ways to fall in step
New realities are conditions
Much too little for us to suffer
Because we don't know any better
There are a hundred ways to fall in step
Because for the past two hundred years
The wine drunk and the freedom proclaimed
Oh are dubious and laughable
Waiting to yield a new use of life
Scatter, scatter brained by the sins, sins of silence
Scatter, scatter brained by the sins, sins of silence
Scatter, scatter brained by the sins, sins of silence
Scatter, scatter brained by the sins, sins of silence
Scatter, scatter brained by the sins, sins of silence
A knife to cut the root, the root of ignorance
A knife to cut the root, the root of ignorance
Scatter, scatter brained by the sins, sins of silence
Scatter, scatter brained by the sins, sins of silence
New realities are conditions
Much too little for us to suffer
Because we don't know any better
There are a hundred ways to fall in step
Because for the past two hundred years
The wine drunk and the freedom proclaimed
Oh are dubious and laughable
Waiting to yield a new use of life
Stereolab
Stereolab