| In the fullness of time, when it’s all waxed and waned
|
| and the cycle’s complete maybe it’ll make sense at last,
|
| all the strangeness explained, all the stories discrete.
|
| Maybe then it’ll all be clear.
|
| I’ve got a Iifetime’s library of unreliable mementoes
|
| and I could show you one or two
|
| if it’s of interest, it’d be an education
|
| for me to simply talk you through
|
| how I wore my innocence as some kind of novelty
|
| as if I didn’t know
|
| between the devil and the deep blue sea
|
| lay the fire down below.
|
| All sense of caution was abandoned in the moment,
|
| our eagerness to claim the day.
|
| The dice we rolled would take us anywhere
|
| and there were no excuses left to stay.
|
| This was the time, this was the chance to go
|
| and do it in some style.
|
| Just turn your face up to the summer sun
|
| and drive a thousand miles
|
| in an Alfa Berlina.
|
| I saw a wolf high on the mountain pass,
|
| the stars were tumbling end to end.
|
| I knew I’d never feel as free as this again.
|
| The sea below us like a looking-glass,
|
| we drifted through the hair-pin bends
|
| in the Alfa Berlina.
|
| So very long ago, so far away,
|
| it’s all time out of mind
|
| but when I think about the way it was
|
| we were recklessly alive
|
| in the Alfa Berlina.
|
| In the fullness of time I can look back and say
|
| I first fell on my feet
|
| in the Alfa. |