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• Artiste: Laughing Clowns
• Titre: Ghost Beat
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It's harsher than I've ever seen There's totally unintelligible shouts from there Stinging sand and stinging rain I'd better get inside before it gets too wet I hear the sound of marching bands And uniformed feet Pretty soon I just can't breathe With so much screaming my tongue swells more and more each day One man's meat is another's poison Oh ghost beat This operation sure is big They surely must expect a fairly major prize But they seem so careless Well I suppose that it's something that has to be done With visions of a funeral pyre See a plane crashing What kind of place is this Can you hear it Ghost beat I just can't think with this around 'cause all I ever hear is that snare drum sound It's much harsher than it's ever been It's probably what makes me act this way I hear the call of self-preservation I really don't want to act this way