hipsters on bikes
beatboxes
mash-up mics
never-ending
-re-e-wind-
and them dreadlocks
and them neon socks
and them whisteblowers
blowing blowing blowing
and there we go
eating our salero's
on the grass
on a summers evening
-the gang reunited-
this is how it goes
kind of like de ja vu though
earlier on
pink ice-cream
outside the museum
-kind of an obscure dream-
but beautiful, nonetheless
I guess
...this is how it goes...
I guess
...this is how it goes...
