Текст (слова) песни «Bulls»

Leaves on the promenade
Down on the disco floor
Dreams eat the bitter tea
I'm sleeping through the war

Cash in the broken hands
Pockets seen better scores
Well I built a house like this
Without sleeping through the war

I'm married to my boredom
No man's afraid of gore
I'm driving round my worry
I'm sleeping through the war

Cash in the broken hands
Pockets seen better scores
Well I built a house like this
Without sleeping through the war

Bulls on the path to the park
Hands on the head

Bulls on the path to the park
Hands on the head

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