Standing in the garden
With a pistol in his hand
Looking at the landlord
While he jumps over the fence
How could it be
Shooting at a man?
Get rid of the body
A life sentence or will he go free?
Upstairs in the attic
With a rope around his neck
Climbing on a chair
He doesn't really care
Love is a gas
But life is a mess
When nothing is left
You just lose all interest
But with the attention span
Of a butter! y
Noone really knows
What's going on in his mind
Stranded in the jungle
With a beret on his head
Charly lost his glasses
He lost them in the sand
How will it be
If he meets the enemy
Guess he'll have to run
Cos there's not
A damn thing he can see
But with the attention span
Of a butter! y
Noone really knows
What's going on in his mind
The sandstorm and
The sun burning his eyes
He'll go blind but will never
Make up his mind
Writer(s): Jean Yves Prieur
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