Текст песни In the Garden - Dizraeli

Garden, made of snow
Nothing living lies below
Hear the songbird breathing slow
In a garden made of snow...

One quarter of the muddy platoon man
And I'm not in it for the drugs and the poontang
Release songs like they're coloured balloons man
See them rise til they bump on the moon landscape
I'm rooted but my head's in the clouds though
Etch a message in indelible sound bro
My letters spread around the globe like Katrina did
Antihurricane cos I build where my thesis hits...
But still a storm, you can't shutter me in voodoo
Must travel like Huckleberry Finn used to
Sketch a picture of yr mum in a tin tutu
Just to confuse you...
Then I make a tune for your buttocks and hips to move to
Let yr buttoned-up lips get loose to the process
No need for the singer mate
I speared Britney then I peed in the Timberlake
Finally a little peace from the scrilla game
The empT-V screen and the titty shake
Zim-zimmer frame, I ate the keys to your beemer
Lay by from the speed of the interstate.

Garden made of sand
Mona Lisa leads the band
They strike up when she lifts her hand
In a garden made of sand.

I'm loving this. It's brilliant when my friends are round me
Without breaking objects, we break boundaries
At times we do break objects, and somebody calls the state mounties
But generally, we make sounds with our mouth-pieces
It's brilliant.
The fact that these scriptures even at times make it onto CDs
Is double-D wicked
Like when you nuzzle the sweet tits of your lover
And each minute fills infinity's limits.
Bountiful... the beautiful views of the town that I hang around,
It's cool. Sometimes I bike out to the Downs and lounge in
Full sunshine. This one time, I stripped down to my bouncy balls
Browned it all off in the sun, then cooled off in a trout pool.
THAT's IT! At least it's what I feel I'm looking for- the
Flow of Chi and peace of which you read in Buddhist thought
But it's rawer than that- it's the gaps between the teeth of the
Deepest sea creatures that attack
Squid with black ink and lidded jaws.
It's the pitted paw of the jackal,
The livid roar of the grizzled bear, the armpit itch of the poet...
And it's all sitting there. Blood, stones, sticks, soil
While you're sat
Listening
To Chris Moyles

In a garden made of worms
New Domestos kills the germs
Press-ups make your pickle firm
In a garden made of worms