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Otros Ejercicios
I Count The Ways 
Hard
de Nortec Collective Presents: Bostich + Fussible
I count the ways to disappear,
No one else can trace my tracks around here.
I ride my bike late at night
And all that can be seen is flickering light.
The air is warm, and the weight is off my mind.
When feeling trapped, make like a river and just go.
It’s never black and bleak unless I say it’s so.
I shift gears and let go; I have total control.
I can’t be haunted if I never see a ghost.
I time it right and meet halfway.
And we watch our numbers grow so confidently.
I’ve got their backs, and they’ve got mine.
We’re a formidable gang without the crime.
The mood is high, and our speed picks up downhill.
When feeling trapped, make like a river and just go.
It’s never black and bleak unless I say it’s so.
I shift gears and to let go; I have total control.
I can’t be haunted if I never see a ghost.
I count the ways to disappear,
No one else can trace my tracks
When feeling trapped, make like a river and just go.
It’s never black and bleak unless I say it’s so.
Up to Golden Gate park, on to Ocean Beach.
Back to Western Addition, down to the Mission,
Wind’s a wisping sound
No one else can trace my tracks around here.
I ride my bike late at night
And all that can be seen is flickering light.
The air is warm, and the weight is off my mind.
When feeling trapped, make like a river and just go.
It’s never black and bleak unless I say it’s so.
I shift gears and let go; I have total control.
I can’t be haunted if I never see a ghost.
I time it right and meet halfway.
And we watch our numbers grow so confidently.
I’ve got their backs, and they’ve got mine.
We’re a formidable gang without the crime.
The mood is high, and our speed picks up downhill.
When feeling trapped, make like a river and just go.
It’s never black and bleak unless I say it’s so.
I shift gears and to let go; I have total control.
I can’t be haunted if I never see a ghost.
I count the ways to disappear,
No one else can trace my tracks
When feeling trapped, make like a river and just go.
It’s never black and bleak unless I say it’s so.
Up to Golden Gate park, on to Ocean Beach.
Back to Western Addition, down to the Mission,
Wind’s a wisping sound
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( Traducción Automática )
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