The Comet Song - Björk

With our fingers we make million holes

We run and we fall into pot holes

On a mission to savor the world, oh!

We peek at the sky through tree holes

Comet!

Oh, damn it!

The comet comes hurtling down

On a precious plot of earth

Like the bugs in mother’s flower bed

We walk on long legs over the sea bed

On our mission to save the world, oh!

We need milk and cakes and a warm bed

Comet!

Oh, damn it!

The comet comes hurtling down

On a precious plot of earth

Grey leaves are too much

For any mother to handle

A father must pull

His black hat down over the eyes