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• Artiste: Crimea (The)
• Titre: White Russian Galaxy
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Straight out of high school and into the jungle searching for Tarzan who might be dad. You kick like a mule, short of an oscar And screaming blue murder at newly weds. Who knows what goes on in her pretty little head Who knows what goes on in her pretty little head Who knows Who knows Who knows Who knows You talk like a fish in nonsensical bubbles then blow the word bitch through your smoke ring. You cause only trouble, you bring only suffering, just get in the spaceship and stop bleeding. Who knows what goes on in her pretty little head Who knows what goes on in her pretty little head Who knows Who knows Who knows Who knows Won't you tell me why do you never sing in church on Sunday? Why won't you ever go all the way? You're floating towards heavenly hell, hanging from the rafters like a church bell. You're light years away from reality, lonely, and lost in a White Russian Galaxy. Who knows Who knows Who knows What goes on in her pretty little head Who knows What goes on in her pretty little head Who knows What goes on in her pretty little head Who knows What goes on in her pretty little head Who knows what goes on Who knows what goes on Who knows what goes on Who knows what goes on in her pretty little head Who knows what goes on Who knows what goes on Who knows what goes on Who knows what goes on Who knows what goes on Who knows what goes on Who knows what goes on Who knows what goes on