© 2021 Sterile streets of Vienna, sticky streets of Rome Clearly I remember, every room I called my home We arrive at the station, customs has a plan Steal our bread and butter, make us understand All of these people places swirl inside my head, I'm glad Some were my friends my mentors, some of them now dead When your friend owes you money, but he won't give it back Makes you do something funny, when you need it for bread Pumping gas for a lira, when the owner got mad Chased me down a blind alley, how my knees and his car bumper met Time, is a swine, that passes you by I'm, just a child, in need of more time Spiking naked-man coins, we could play double games Taking turns shooting rabbits, and the loser for ice cream would pay Happy to step inside my head, and live this time again Be with my friends and mentors, take them by the hand