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lyrics

A tourist atom
in a foreign world
Briefcases full of
one-legged spiders
The faraway sun
projects it's shadow
but he stands tall and stoic
like Takeshi Kitano
playing a sonatine
A prophet, a song
and a motherfucking bomb
The cactus' silhouette
shines in the distance
surrounded by a fantasy
which just won't come to light
All the masks that get thrown at him
just won't suffice

We're just
trying
to figure out
a story
with no structure
We're making
sculptures in
the void
and it's
totally alright
So stop crying
you fucking pussy
and grab your tools

He sees all the neon souls
speeding down the highway
but he walks so slowly at a side
The desert's wind is raging
like a newborn baby's kicks
The remains of car crashes
float down an asphalt river
The landscape's turning slightly red
and lizards eyes are floating everywhere
and even the ever static cacti
are hidden under ground
I see the mushrooms growing in the distance

We're just
trying
to figure out
a story
with no structure
We're making
sculptures in
the void
and it's
totally alright
So stop crying
you fucking pussy
and grab your tools

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Cactus Frank/El Café Atómico Venezuela

Post-apocalyptic Blues band, directly extracted from some B-Movie western in the year 3000 on a desert highway, somewhere

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