Lyrics

Illusions cause confusion in our big red bleeding hearts
Kiss me once or twice on my big red hurting lips
I promise mescaline will be the last of all my trips

We're tripping

Lyrics continue below...

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(This plane will take us to America)
(I can see my house from here)
(Can someone point me in the direction of an ambulance?)

Pan Pan
Pan Pan America
This plane will take us to America

This sinister red beam awoken deep inside the earth
Won't take it long to get here from the moment of its birth
Will drive us all completely mad and make us lose our sleep
Troubled all our nations in our beds still counting sheep

We're sleeping

Please wait for me. Please take me to France
These drugs are mean and there's a hole in my pants
I need you for some comfort and sex
I'll straighten it all out and make you some flapjacks

Flapjacks
Flapjacks are made of love
These flapjacks were made in America
This plane will take us to America
(These flapjacks were made in America)

ain

Writer(s): Klaus Hedegaard Nielsen, Kaare Rolf Hansen, Kristian Bang Noergaard

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