Tekster: Herman Dune. Coming From The Attic Window.

honey the sound's with me
i'm still sitting around
there's favor in the temper you know
there's the sounds and the djinns and hipsters
coming from the attic window
in a poor suburban blow
i think you're out of your mind
i think you're out of your mind
i think you're out of your mind
i think you're out of your mind
baby you make me write good lines
and i put them after your good lines
i would think there would be some more time
for more and more stuffs coming on now
and i tattoed your birth face on my arm
and i'm still hanging on to it
you can sit there on the pier sometimes
and listen to my ever ready complaints
i think you're out of your mind
i think you're out of your mind
i think you're out of your mind sometimes
and i think you're out of your mind
going down, over the city...
is a big and a slow sun
splitting off on the space between roof tops
time is still reserved for you and i
yeah time is still reserved for you and i
i think you're out of your mind