In Brighton legte das Tier die Sticks mal auf die Seite und spielte Tabla:
[youtube]Zj9Sv1JpmPs[/youtube]
Indian Summer – Brighton, September 2010
Lyrics:
Walking up to me expecting
Walking up to me expecting words
It happens all the time
Present company accepted
Present company accept the worst
It happens every night
Present company excluded every time
Present company, the best that you can find
Talking like a jerk
Except you are an actual jerk
And living proof that sometimes friends are mean
Present company expect it
Present company, just laugh it off
It’s better than it seems
Present company excluded in every way
Present company, makes me wanna stay
Killing it with close inspecting
Killing it can only make it worse
It sort of makes it breed
Present company accepting
Presently we all expect the worst
Works just like a need
Present company excluded in the night
Present company included in the fight
Don’t you want me to wake up
Then give me just a bit of your time
Arguments are made for make-ups
So give it just a little more time
We’ve got to bring our results
I wanna play it ‚til the time comes
But there’s a string of divorces
You go and throw your little hands up
I miss the way the night comes
With friends who always make it feel good
This basement has a cold glow
Though it’s better than a bunch of others
So go and dance yourself clean
Go and dance yourself clean
You’re blowing Marxism to pieces
Baby, they’re arguments, the pieces
It’s your show
Work a little bit
Every night’s a different story
It’s a thirty car pile-up with you
Everybody’s getting younger
It’s the end of an era, it’s true
And you go
Stop, stop, stop, stop
Make me into bigger pieces
So some of me is home with you
Wait until the weekend
And we can make our dreams come true
And it’s a-go
Yeah, it’s a-go
And if we wait until the weekend
We can miss the best thing to do
Go and dance yourself clean
Go and dance yourself clean
You’re blowing Marxism to pieces
Maybe they’re arguments, the pieces
We should try a little harder
In the tedious march of the few
Every day’s a different warning
There’s a part of me hoping it’s true