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"At three o'clock" you told me "throw a stone over the roof you'll see, you'll see, you'll see, I'll wake up but if you don't see me you can wait for me down at the station you'll see, you'll see, you'll see, you'll see that I'll arrive". And I'm standing at the station, waiting for your bus. What will you wear, how will you present yourself, what will you tell me? Escape from here, escape into a new world that welcomes us both, without melancholy. And Holland is far from our borders and I feel the fields and the flowers and the windmills turning inside me. "Excuse me, can you make me a coffee?" What time is it? It's already six o'clock and a train is moving away and the other one, who will take it? The sun lights up the shadow of the distant traffic lights, I have a lump in my throat and bitterness, disappointment or who knows what. And Holland disappears from the confines of my heart and I feel the fields and the flowers and the windmills dying inside me, inside me.