Erik Hårdstedt - Frogs

Communal dinner in the banana grove
Frogs are croaking, moon's almost full
Too many musicians, too many wills
Too many stories, Too much time to kill
I used to love it, but my brain's been rewired
People young and hungry ,with wide open minds
I'm open and hungry, but not for the same things
Not even Harvest, makes me join in
Humans flock together to build pavements of sounds
And to turn animals and plants into dung
And spinning fresh threads in their webs of belief
And sifting the ones that seem obsolete
Well you've been been to Tenerife, You say that it saved your soul
I'm going to Elevenerife. It should be somewhere down this road
I'm looking for a secret riff, hidden in a freak resort
Better than all other riffs it, an everlasting juggernaut
My brain's too tired ,I've got nothing to say
Too much freedom came my way
Pray tell ,what hebrew sounds like to a bat
And how to reach from the second to the seventh fret
I've noticed how lately, they all sound like frogs
They hang out by the river in the morning fog
With their slippery tongues and glimmering eyes
They glare at the fireflies, my oh my
Well you've been been to Tenerife, You say that it saved your soul
I'm going to Elevenerife. It should be somewhere down this road
I'm looking for a secret riff, hidden in a freak resort
better than all other riffs it, an everlasting juggernaut
The evergreen forest that once ruled this plateau
Is again growing dense, since a week or so
The hippies are crawling back into the womb
As viagra warriors rise from their tombs
I'm torn 'tween the subtle riches of the void
And the broken expressions of the individual soul
With no religion, or moral default,
It all boils down to some wacky sex cult
I'm looking discreetly for an old fashioned heart
Polished by solitude under the stars.
But I'm probably too discreet, I just hide in my room
And it's gonna be hot, way too hot, round this valley soon

Written by:
erik hårdstedt

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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