DESCRIPTION:
The second installment from my room in paris. Last night me, Veli, and Ingrid the Norwegian celebrated Finnish Independence Day with many, many shots, cocktails, and beers. I slept under a reindeer skin.

Here are the lyrics, and the first two lines were written by Ingrid Simone:

Shots in thirteen different colours,
Drunk in fourteen different ways,
Staggering swaggering under streetlights
"Paris Est Une Fete" these days.
How long shall I kill my body?
I will do it til I'm dead.
Turn my liver into pate,
You could spread it on some bread.
Every woman's gorgeous,
I would take them all to bed.

Fannying around

Now I'm surfing waves of panic,
And nausea has a dorsal fin,
A Great Whitey is approaching,
As my stomach starts to swim.
I thought that I was so goodlooking,
I thought that I was looking hot,
Then I chundered on the pavement,
And realised that I'm not.
But I feel much better now,
Perhaps I'll have another shot.

Fannying around.