I turn around as I'm walking
I see that he's not there
I look again like I'm stalking
This time I see him there
I fix my eyes on my stalker
There's somethin' I don't get
The scene I see is not proper
It's not one Bosch would set
I hide around the first corner
His face shows no expression
He follows me like a mourner
Follows a procession
I fix my eyes on my stalker
There's somethin' I don't get
The scene I see is not proper
It's not one Bosch would set
A party of a descent people
I'm with my god's decree
An orgy of sober cripples
This shit is not for me
I fix my eyes on my stalker
There's somethin' I don't get
The scene I see is not proper
It's not one Bosch would set
The details won't be disclosed
They look rather faint
The movement, the gestures, the pose
Bruegel would never paint... yeah...
A chance for a spicy evening
Arises like the sun
What if he caused booze to spring
And finishes this dry run
I fix my eyes on my stalker
There's somethin' I don't get
The scene I see is not proper
It's not one Bosch would set
Writer(s): Tomasz Pukacki, Maciej Starosta, Dariusz Piotr Popowicz, Wojciech Moryto
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