Here comes the sound, the sound of confusion

Oh Marianne, pass me the joint
The sandpaper's tan
Go-getters are surfing the point

A l'aurore, armés d'une ardente patience, nous entrerons aux splendides villes.

Inside I'm dancing

"Partizaner Lid" (Himno de los Partisanos)

Zog nit kein mol az du gueist dem letstn veg,
Jotsh himlen blaiene farshteln bloie teg.
Kumen vet noj undzer oisgebenkte sho;
S'vet a poikt on undzer trot: Mir zainen do!

Fun grinem palmenland biz vaisn land fun shnei,
Mir kumen on mit undzer pain, mit undzer vei.
Un vu gefaln s'iz a shprits fun undzer blut -
Shprotsn vet dort undzer gvure, undzer mut.

S'vet di morgnzun bagildn undz dem haint,
Un der nejtn vet farshvindn mitn faind.
Nor oib farzamen vet di zun in dem kaior,
Vi a parol zol gein dos lid fun dor tsu dor.

Dos lid geshribn iz mit blut un nit mit blai,
[Geshribn iz dos lid mit blut un nit mit blai,]
S'iz nit kein lidl fun a foigl oif der frai.
Dos hot a folk tsvishn falndike vent
Dos lid gezungen mit naganes in di hent.

To zog nit kein mol as du gueist dem letstn veg,
jotsh himlen blayene farshteln bloye teg.
Kumen vet noj undzer oisgebenkte sho;
S'vet a poik ton undzer trot: Mir zainen do!

If you think running away from how you feel inside will make it easier, well it won't.

Oh, people look so lonely when they’re old

When you come of age it’s not the same
No umbrella over your head when it rains
And your friends would rather get high than play a game
Oh, it’s such a shame the way they change
And Emily’s hung over, Bill feels rough
Thinks his girlfriend might be up the duff... again
She threw up twice last night on the bus
And I never thought growing old could be so tough...

Caterpillar girl

Oh, dust my lemon lies, with powder pink and sweet...

Day in, day out.

Dieu, je vous soupçonne d'être un intellectuel de gauche

Carpe Diem

In my town, there is a raincoat under a tree.
In the sky there is a cloud containing the sea.
In the sea there is a whale without any eyes.
In the whale there is a man without his raincoat.

The Gashlycrumb Tinies

I hope you know this will go down on your permanent record

Pushed around and kicked around, always a lonely boy. You were the one that they'd talk about around town as they put you down.
And as hard as they would try, they'd hurt to make you cry. But you never cried to them, just to your soul. No, you never cried to them, just to your soul.

Old King Cole was a merry old soul, and a merry old soul was he. So he called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl, and he called for his fiddlers three.

Oh, to live on Sugar Mountain,

with the barkers and the colored balloons...

Pennsylvania 6-5000!