| Sunny day | |
| And I can hear them call | |
| Will they ever come back home | |
| On my way | |
| To watch and catch them all | |
| The most precious things I can't control | |
| Nights and days | |
| Ready to be born | |
| I paint their silhouettes | |
| The melody | |
| Of my favorite teenage song | |
| I heard a thousand times and can't forget | |
| Refrain: | |
| Searching all around the world | |
| I was gone for a long time | |
| I have seen them rise and fall | |
| Between whiskey and wine | |
| Burning like gasoline | |
| Sounding like a violin | |
| I was never too late | |
| Summer day | |
| Whispers in my ear | |
| The old stories 'bout the man | |
| Who would sit and sway | |
| Make history with faith | |
| From their cradle to their grave | |
| What a blast - to feel your head explode | |
| What a sound - a new idea was born | |
| Without them - we would be empty and alone | |
| Burning like gasoline | |
| Sounding like a violin | |
| I was never too late |
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