Magrela Fever

I scratch myself and get out.
My mind is numb.
Whole life ahead, gear, block,
Clutch, brake, little oil on the chain.

Wearing a yellow shirt, with the skinny girl all fired up,
Something in my eye, look at the fun, crooked handlebars,
Damaged wheel, I'll go anyway!

And I take the risk and throw off with my laughter,
Smoothly, cool, I won't be marking territory
as evil runs wild.

Flip-flops in the highest category,
zooming down the hills, adjusting with the day
and I spread out through the holes and stories.

Laughter, I feel the honey in my mind,
sweet blood of life in the seeds.
Beautiful and light, I keep going
with a cool head and hot feet
and the heart pumping,
pumping,
pumping,
pumping,
pumping...

Lighting up the ideas,
(Ah) put some grease on your shins.

It's fever on the Skinny!
It's fever on the Skinny!

Lighting up the ideas,
(Ah) put some grease on your shins.

It's fever on the Skinny!
It's fever on the Skinny!

Lighting up the ideas,
(Ah) put some grease on your shins.

It's fever on the Skinny!
It's fever on the Skinny!

Lighting up the ideas,
(Ah) put some grease on your shins.

It's fever on the Skinny!
It's fever on the Skinny!