On your couch crazy, we
We are like two of Montana after the Nirvana.
We were flying so that your mother did not notice

And she said that I just

Mama Luba come on, come on, come on

Mama Luba come on, come on, come on

Our, our bed made ​​chic-chic

I am your piano and you're my tuner.
We were flying so that your mother did not notice
And she said that I just


Mama Luba come on, come on, come on
Mama Luba come on, come on, come on ...