Lyrics

I'm from the land when bears fall and break I'm from the place where you can wash and clean I'm from the gardens of flowers that you can sniff I'm from the room of greenish things I'm from the softness of lotions from my room From the place where the ribs get cooked and the cookouts happen I'm from the place where clothes are flying everywhere From the place when trees take over This is a funeral program This is a message from Cookiе This is a funeral program This is a message from Cookiе (repeats behind the next sections) Laughing at Cookie Laughing at Cookie Laughing at Cookie Laughing at Cookie Poor little Cookie Poor little Cookie Poor little Cookie Poor little Cookie I'm from the days when airplanes fly around I'm from the juice, chips and candy world I'm from the night when Popeye's and McDonald's pop out With the smells, the smells of thieves [?] This is a funeral program This is a message from Cookie This is a funeral program This is a message from Cookie (repeats behind the next sections) Laughing at Cookie Laughing at Cookie Laughing at Cookie Laughing at Cookie Poor little Cookie Poor little Cookie Poor little Cookie Poor little Cookie