The Birth
Of Death

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I'm buskin' in the street
i'm buskin' in the street
i see fancy girls but
there is no time to meet
i just blow, blow air
into my old melodica
and here i play for you

I'm buskin' in the street
i'm buskin' in the street
i see fancy girls but
there is no time to meet
i just hit, hit, hit
the strings of my old balalaika
and here i play for you

I'm buskin' in the street
i'm buskin' in the street
i see fancy girls but
there is no time to meet
i just blow, blow air
into my old rooster whistle
and here i play for you

buskin' in the street
i'm buskin' in the street
i see fancy girls but
there is no time to meet
i just play, play my
jingle bells like this

02. Buskin' In The Street
(Heikkilä) I used the background from one of the few useful "Orvot" tracks that were still left and found out it was easy to make lyrics with the simple idea of the busker who desperately presents his poor instrument collection. Fancy girls out there, but no time to meet them. Damn. But it came out well enough to satisfy me. --Jore A bit of a Caribbean feel to this one to my ears - like Harry Belafonte jamming with The Incredible String Band. The guy should sell his instruments and go and get laid! --Davy