Underneath the opal moon,
people shimmer by - they treat me like a snowman,
found inside a trashcan.
Crave white yellow and cherries brown and I dance
awhile - and treat me like a snowman, drive me like
a wildman, faror for a white boy blues.
If it's a word, I was overwild.
Stay for a wonderful while with a suncomforted smile.
'Cos when we kiss my heart pulsates into
a bossa nova beat - and treat me like a snowman,
drive me like a wildman faror for a white boy blues.
But mostly I sit and I sleep in a Holiday bin
with all of my friends...
There can be such music as would kill a man,
instantly,
inner objectives rule under the opal moon...
Under the opal moon : white boy blues.
