Dreams seen by a man-made machine 
How does it seem, how does it seem 
That we can see each others dreams 
That we can see each others dreams 

(Last night sleep, only to the beat) 

She hold green onions in her hand 
She listens to the sound of the band 
A bed of green spam grows in her head 
Talking to the rising sun 
Yes she's talking to the rising sun 

(Oh papa-papa there, yeah yeah papa-papa cares) 
(Oh moma-moma there, yeah yeah moma-moma cares)