Going South - The Wolfgang Press

Peace and love, a phoney kind of blubber

My instincts tell me to crash

You’ve got salt emissions and you know how to use them

I somehow think this won’t last

So I’m moving south

To the great unknown

Yeah I’m moving south

Where the head unloads

You’ve got a reason some funky little demons

Telling me that life is a gas

You’re a deconstruction a euphemism nothing

Motown gives it a blast

So I’m moving south

To the great unknown

Yeah I’m going south

Where the head unloads

Called my brother, he said, «I need a lawyer»

And my life is sinking at best

Called my brother, he said, «I've just become

A moaner who lives in the past»

You’ve got a vision some funky little sms

Telling me that life is a gas

Your misconception is a pitiful expression

It’s something, I’ll never possess

So I’m moving south

To the great unknown

Yeah I’m moving south

Where the head unloads

Peace and love, a phoney kind of blubber

My instincts tell me to crash

You’ve got salt emissions and you know how to use them

I somehow think this won’t last

So I’m moving south

To the great unknown

Yeah I’m moving south

Where the head unloads