The Comet Song
Bj�rk Gudmundsdottir, Sigurjon Sigurdsson, Bjork Gudmundsdottir
With our fingers we make million holes
We run and we fall into pot holes
On a mission to savor the world oooh
We peek at the sky through tree holes
Comet oh damn it
The comet comes hurtling down
On a precious plot of earth
Like the bugs in mother's flower bed
We walk on long legs over the sea bed
On our mission to save the world anekatips whoaaa oooh
We need milk and cakes and a warm bed
Comet oh damn it
The comet comes hurtling down
On a precious plot of earth
Grey leaves are too much for any mother to handle
A father must pull his black hat down over the eyes
