.Våra drömmar rinner genom flaskornas hals
Centilitrar vackra som toner i en gråtande vals
Morgonens mörker, hos moder courage
Här finns bara sånt era farsor döpt till surrogat
Genom fönstret ser vi hjärtattackerna springa förbi
Här finns inga doktorer, vi har våran egen me.
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