Nomadic Chronicle

Back when I was young and crazy, as they say But sure, I worked pretty hard, yeah Stole some money from my mom, and I hit the road to Leningrad I get stopped on the next train stop, in the middle of rural Ukraine This is how it's all begun And I will tell this story of a true rebellion Hoya hoya hoya Moya paranoia Maybe I'm a man who is propelled Spinning circles of his doom Or maybe I'm just paranoid Placed by the lord in this room And a bottle will always be my cover All of your eyebrows, will you please untie And if there's any room for a Roma What else is there left to romanticize? Hoya, hoya, hoya Moya paranoia This is only when I'm drunk Or do I see things any clearly? It's just like when one is dyslexic Whatever, I will stay discivil! Hoya hoya hoya Moya paranoia No ti dura