domingo, 13 de janeiro de 2008


good morning renaissance
it's now twenty past eleven
a quarter to eight
on my way to your room
our flight got delayed
got stuck in a slum
somewhere in "I shouldn't be here"
and the roads were all bumpy

...the eyes of the people
were all staring, no one moved
still the price for that flat was
the price for that flat was
if I could only think
if I could know everything
good morning renaissance
full of tens of thousands
half way through a movement
picking up a different tempo