Brisa Roché
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Helmet Ray

Brisa Roché


Helmet Ray, Futura Black
Lay in wait down by the tracks
Silver shoes and rings of lead
Dressed up like they’ve just been wed

Helmet Ray, Futura Black
Black, black, black, black, black
Helmet Ray, Futura Black
Black, black, black, black

Helmet Ray, Futura Black
Gone so far, they can’t go back
Crouched by tires, slouched on steel
Each heart beat the other feels

Helmet Ray, Futura Black
Black, black, black, black, black
Helmet Ray, Futura Black
Black, black, black, black

Helmet Ray, Futura Black
Have no suitcase, have no sack
Laughing by the baker’s door
Dancing to the highway roar

Helmet Ray, Futura Black
Black, black, black, black, black
Helmet Ray, Futura Black
Black, black, black, black, black

Helmet Ray, Futura Black
Light-beam gun goes, « tack tack tack ! »
Take this peach, taste that plum
Just drop now your light-ray gun

Helmet Ray, Futura Black
Black, black, black, black, black
Helmet Ray, Futura Black

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