| Love is on this balcony
|
| Naked, where I rest my feet
|
| We roam Roman ruins
|
| Swifts, swallows swoop and screech
|
| This is our time
|
| Under umbrella pines
|
| Darling can you cope
|
| With my high-hearted ideals and demands
|
| Maybe joy will win
|
| Maybe this will bring
|
| Fruits we never ate before
|
| A feast on future’s lore
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| That we’re building
|
| Through broken triumphal arches
|
| Thank God, you exist
|
| Go, hustle trade
|
| Think it makes the world go round
|
| I won’t judge you any the less
|
| Only want for you to have the best
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| That you can in this age
|
| Of freedom, capital
|
| Faith too classical
|
| This is our tim
|
| Under umbrella pines
|
| Darling can you cop
|
| With my high-hearted ideals and demands
|
| Gentle archeologist
|
| Boldly take risk
|
| Dig, dig trust
|
| Brush away the dust
|
| Wondering how it is you learnt
|
| All I need is to be met
|
| Why, why your patience is
|
| So strong and endless |