Belgium, Bank Ambience with Busy Crowd Noise, Recorded from a Close Perspective

I thought I found a love but she was just a fling.
And then I met a girl,
and felt a different thing.
It’s like your hit in the ring like you’re pulled by a string.
Can’t breathe like you’re choking on a chicken wing.
It was a thing called a zing.
And I wanted to sing,
and listen to the ballads of a man named Sting.
Baby, looks in your eye.
And it’s suddenly spring like when Nala kissed Simba in the lion king.
Zinging in the air and I don’t have a care.
I’m winging from the zing that we share.
Zinging in the rain.
Now I’m feeling no pain.
It’s real, time for celebrating cause you’re my zing.
(Drag, ready to throw down?
No,
no I just came closer to hear you better.
Oh, come on!
Just give it a try.Alright.
Maybe just a little bit).
So listen all you zingers from here to beijing.
You better grab a box of strings and get ready to cling cause if love was money,
you’d better be yelling «cha — ching»,
cause next to zing, cupid’s arrow’s a little bee sting, it was a zing and a
zang and a ziygididy and there was one only one
lady in the zing for me cause when you zing (when you zing)!
You better know one little thing: the only thing you’re gonnna sling is a
wedding ring!
Zinging in the air.
Now I don’t have a care.
I’m winging from the zing that we share.
Zinging in the rain.
Now I’m feeling no pain.
It’s a real time for celebrating cause you’re my zing.
To the zing y’all, ba — da — bing y’all.
Gonnna knock you out right outta that ring y’all.
Better ring y’all, happening y’all.
Pay attention to the undead king, y’all!
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