As the wave come and wash away the sand,
I build a sandcastle,
in the air,
thinking about the good times I have in life,
I’m the king and I’m the guard,
I’ll be the slave, and I’ll be the cook,
It’s my castle,
and you’re just the sand.
As night falls and take away our shadows,
we switch on the lights and they re-appear,
they’re our closest companion,
let’s have a toast for us champions,
I see you standing proud on the podium,
with a baby on your arms,
that don’t resembles you.
Ouch.
My palm is a work of art,
my palm has got its own attitude,
my palm opens the door, closes the door,
my palm just rest on my arm.
My palm have 5 midgets,
each with different sizes and height,
avoid meeting the middle one,
he’s a little hot headed like the sun,
my palm is on your arm,
why don’t you give it a little rum.
My palm is going places,
can you come,
call my palm and we can talk like when we’re young,
imagine you and me holding hands with our sweaty palms,
the magician says, zam zam alakazam,
I’d say, meet you in The Palms.
I am a big fan of myself,
I keep myself cool and out of sweat,
when the critics come I defend myself,
when the rain come, I stay out of it,
when the opportunity come, I snatch it.
I plan to make it make it,
plan to make a name of myself with cardboards,
10 years down the road,
I see myself on the road,
in a public transport,
to the car dealer,
to collect home my new Ford,
this is my fortress,
no one allow in except girls with dresses,
and I plan to stay out of stresses,
to be alone and lonely.
I’m obsessed with success,
I’m willing to go through the stress and mess,
just to drink a bottle of plain water talking to the press,
It’s sad to think that I can’t drink the success water,
but success is not measured by the type of water you drink,
success is measured by the number of people turn up during your death,
I can see the sky is dark,
is this 2012 or is it just night,
is this my illusion or is it I’m right,
is the world that dark or is it I’m bright,
or this is a fight.
