Need to talk about anarchy
Before I sing my last release
Because I ain’t no Russian
And I have no mane

But I am Italian descendent
At least a crest
Yes, I am shooting some stake
In their chests

Necessary work in the Middle West
I’m breaking some walls
And for me that’s fine
Now coming down the ceiling
Tell me what’s all right

I’m ready for cure
Not asking for food

I don’t know much about creation
But I try to feel my feet on the floor
Darwinism or Ufology in music is right for me

I’m ready for cure
Not asking for food