There is a place, or at least there was a place. A republic of woman and men and everything in-between that binary space. Floating in the air, on water and beneath the dirt. Some said it was heaven, others named it hell, but to the ones that lived there, we just called it our own little bohemian earth. It all started with an idea, which turned into a system; just add a touch of bliss, a dash of torture, a time to prevail, and a moment to suffer. Where night and day are the constant loop of past and future, and we’d dance in both, with one another. So squander your fortunes, and let's have a toast, for tomorrow this village will be but a ghost.
I didn’t fall, I didn’t trip
I tripped, I didn’t fall
I fell, I didn’t trip
I tripped and fell
I fell and tripped
And tripped and fell
I didn’t trip I didn’t fall
I didn’t fall, I didn’t trip
I didn’t trip or fall
I was pushed