Negro, this goes out to chaos

Get out the car, come join the party
Restore us to our natural state of danger
That strong fanatic wind that never ceases to blow
She is a rose, she is together like a wind tunnel and they test their struts inside her
And their torched opinions make some grotesque spectacle on the terrace

Today I went into the hills
To make the get-out pleasure last as long as possible
This is how it used to be