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Portugal The Man Censored Colors

I was born in nineteen eighty-nine All we could do No shakes or coughs or burst relief Or lists of all our things Just minutes making minds I was born

be free We'll be the colors That pour through the streets And find in their after yeas That we're all the same We're all the colors That pour through

Ahhhhhh Ahhhhhhhhhh Ahhhhhhhhh Ahhhhhh Ahhhhhhhhhh Ahhhhhhhhh Ohhh, I remember things, not many things, Dont remember when my feet touched the ground

needy still need and all the losers still lose all the preachers still preach but they ain't bringin no change I'm not afraid to die 'cause all these colors