---

The beetles are playing again
Rolling little balls of dung
Around the tongue
They sadden and they sway in bed
They bury all their treasure
Down inside our lungs

When they're feasting on their feces
With a crunching, munching sound
You'll never find more contented
Kind though you search the world around
And they tumble on down
To the depths of the grounds
And they wail and they gnash and they click

And they're feasting on their feces
With a crunching, munching sound
You'll never find more contented
Kind though you search the world around
And they tumble on down
To the depths of the grounds
And they wail and they gnash and they click

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Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.