You’re Searching For A Soulmate
I wonder how it can be so
That my life is a weather report.
The wind rocks the oak tree, and I’m suspended in space.
The sun’s reflection bleeds through my windowpane,
And I can’t help but to smile.
I am riding in a colorful taxi,
Watching the city lights pass me by.
My music is playing, and I’m singing along-
The words flowing from someplace beyond the grave.