Skinny people make the world fat
Proud gentlemen pull their suspenders
The goverment lies are caught in her eyes
She left her father on the prairie of good intention
She left her mother in the mirror of all ambition
Her brother doesn’t know why the engine won’t start

She climbs a tree to make the revolution
It seemed tall but it isn’t tall enough
Her words fly away, too far from each other.

Too far from each other

Lyric:

Rhythm symptom
fills all your head
vinegar on the tongue 
makes all taste arise
feel the rain from your shoulders pour down
Cigarettes are floating into your mind
They are smoking to quench your nostalgia…
..to quench your stupid way of remembering
In this century people know how to connect, but I  don’t.
I don’t know wich kind of connection i must crave
maybe with nature
maybe with god
maybe with the universe
maybe i have to sleep….

Vinegar on the tongue

Paul Cobbler is a songwriter who may not exist