Beach - Recorders

A storm is coming, when will fall the lightning?

I feel the pieces of my head shattering like a sand castle in the waves

A giant iris opening, my reality is fading

I don’t know when, where, why or how I ended up so fucking fucked up

The night has lost her new queen, stripped up like a maid who fucked up

The time to leave is coming, I can feel it on every inch of my skin

And it starts getting cold now, it feels like punching into crystal

A long journey to the south awaits, from the neon lights, right straight

To the beach, to the beach, to the beach, to the beach

To the beach, to the beach, to the beach, to the beach

To the sun, to the sun, to the sun, to the sun

To the sun, to the sun, to the sun, to the sun

To the beach, to the beach, to the beach, to the beach

To the beach, to the beach, to the beach, to the beach

To the sun, to the sun, to the sun, to the sun

To the sun, to the sun, to the sun, to the sun

To the

To the beach, to the beach, to the beach, to the beach

To the beach, to the beach, to the beach, to the beach

To the sun, to the sun, to the sun, to the sun

To the sun, to the sun, to the sun, to the sun

To the beach, to the beach, to the beach, to the beach

To the beach, to the beach, to the beach, to the beach

To the sun, to the sun, to the sun, to the sun

To the sun, to the sun, to the sun, to the sun

To the beach, to the beach, to the beach, to the beach

To the beach, to the beach, to the beach, to the beach

To the sun, to the sun, to the sun, to the sun

To the sun, to the sun, to the sun, to the sun

To the beach, to the beach, to the beach, to the beach

To the beach, to the beach, to the beach, to the beach

To the sun, to the sun, to the sun, to the sun

To the sun, to the sun, to the sun, to the sun

To the