Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Russian Hill, artist - Jellyfish. Date of issue: 31.12.1992
Song language: English
Russian Hill |
| I dreamt about a tranquil Sunday drive |
| A sensory lullaby |
| We trade the comics, cartoons, and magazines |
| For pistons and gasoline |
| We see the road from the bedside |
| Parked under the sunshine |
| We feel the warmth of the engine so we climb inside |
| And take it to the motorway |
| Watch the clouds turn into faces it’s fun to play |
| Shift the gears for years and age a single day |
| Until we spill onto Russian Hill |
| Past cathedrals filled with God’s favorite guests |
| Dirty hands feel clean when dressed in their Sunday best |
| Treeline village oh so heavenly |
| Cross a bridge of gold to landscapes of juniper |
| Only Eden is for millionaires |
| Watch the clouds turn into faces its fun to play |
| Shift the gears for years and age a single day |
| Until we spill onto Russian Hill |
| I’m pulling through the last stoplight |
| We head home past the shoreline |
| And through the rear view mirror it all melts away |
| 'Til we’re helpless |
| Watch the clouds turn into faces its fun to play |
| (We're hopeless) |
| We shift the gears for years and age a single day |
| (It fades away) |
| For like curtains close this sunset matinee |
| A dream fulfilled on Russian Hill |