I turn around as I'm walking
I see that he's not there
I look again like I'm stalking
this time I see him there
I fix my eyes on my stalker
there's somethin' I don't get
the scene I see is not proper
it's not one Bosch would set
I hide around the first corner
his face shows no expression
he follows me like a mourner
follows a procession
I fix my eyes on my stalker
there's somethin' I don't get
the scene I see is not proper
it's not one Bosch would set
A party of a descent people
I'm with my god's decree
an orgy of sober cripples
this shit is not for me
I fix my eyes on my stalker
there's somethin' I don't get
the scene I see is not proper
it's not one Bosch would set
The details won't be disclosed
they look rather faint
the movement, the gestures, the pose
Bruegel would never paint... yeah...
A chance for a spicy evening
arises like the sun
what if he caused booze to spring
and finishes this dry run
I fix my eyes on my stalker
there's somethin' I don't get
the scene I see is not proper
it's not one Bosch would set
