It's been raining for days...
you arrive on mediterranean waves.
you make the enchanted landscape grieve
for the unresolved beauty only you can achieve

I don't how to make it end
the wrongs endured by every tribe of men
(and women, so golden there with their pretty brown shoes and their pretty brown hair)

One things certain- you cant rock solo.
and you might even trade it all for one more time through the looking glass.
she say, 'dont stay' but you wont go.
you'd like to erase it all, but the verdicts in- man, the girls got class.

It's my style, and its my soul
that make you hate me when you cant go
and you get me wrong, but I'll admit it again:
I'm worse than you, I'm worse than him.

Not sure if it'll be alright
how they all feel tonight.
cant promise if it'll be alright
how they all feel tonight.