This ain’t no disco!…
Your voice… touches of insanity, so pure, so clear…
Your voice… touches of perfection, so clear…
All that is left is a blurred echo,
It’s the pulse of this creation…
This ain’t no disco!…
Your voice… touches of insanity, so pure, so clear…
Your voice… touches of perfection, so clear…
All that is left is a blurred echo,
It’s the pulse of this creation…