| My moon, it's evening and where are you
|
| Darkness everywhere, my dear alone, you see
|
| Flowers, grass, just about everything sleeping tonight
|
| Hey cities, where are these roads taking me?
|
| Bright star, who is she dreaming about tonight, ask her
|
| Her hands, whether they are waiting for me or not
|
| Tell the soul, agree a little with the heart
|
| Hey cities, where are these roads taking me?
|
| I'll write her debt letters
|
| From Zagora, from Drniš
|
| Postcards warm from the south
|
| From Banat, Bosnia, Nis
|
| I'll send her pictures of myself
|
| Where to see Istria, Pula
|
| At least have something of mine
|
| To comfort her, to defend her, to protect her
|
| My moon, it's evening and where are you
|
| Darkness everywhere, my dear alone, you see
|
| Flowers, grass, just about everything sleeping tonight
|
| Hey cities, where are these roads taking me?
|
| I'll write her debt letters
|
| From Zagora, from Drniš
|
| Postcards warm from the south
|
| From Banat, Bosnia, Nis
|
| I'll send her pictures of myself
|
| Where to see Istria, Pula
|
| At least have something of mine
|
| To comfort her, to defend her, to protect her
|
| I'll write her debt letters
|
| From Zagora, from Drniš
|
| Postcards warm from the south
|
| From Banat, Bosnia, Nis
|
| I'll send her pictures of myself
|
| Where to see Istria, Pula
|
| At least have something of mine
|
| To comfort her, to defend her, to protect her
|
| I'll write her debt letters
|
| From Zagora, from Drniš
|
| Postcards warm from the south
|
| From Banat, Bosnia, Nis
|
| I'll send her pictures of myself
|
| Where to see Istria, Pula
|
| At least have something of mine
|
| To comfort her, to defend her, to protect her |