The air was more than human and The heat was more than hungry and The cars were square and spitting diesel fumes The bulls were running wild Because they're big and mean and sacred and The children were playing cricket with no shoes
The next morning we woke up, man With a seven hour drive There we were stuck in port blaire Where boats break and children stare
There were so many fewer questions When stars were still just the holes to heaven And there were so many fewer questions When stars were still just the holes to heaven
Disembarking from the port With no mistakes of any sort Moving south the engine running smooth Officials were quite friendly Once we drowned them with our sweet talk And we bribed them with our cigarettes and booze
The next morning we woke up With the sunrise to the right Moving back north to port blaire Where boats break and children stare
There were so many fewer questions When stars were still just the holes to heaven Yes and there were so many fewer questions When stars were still just the holes to heaven
Compositor: Jack Hody Johnson (Jack Johnson) ECAD: Obra #1478688 Fonograma #18097008