I have no sense of time
Nor direction or place
A dream keeps me awake
But it's not the right kind
I pass my days in unmade beds
Always on the wrong side of town
I fall back into you
Every time
I'm far, too far away from home
And that's all the time
The ink dries on a paper
Soon to be taken by your eyes
And the whole damn world
Is holding its breath
I wont expect you to understand
But it's how I feel
And tonight i might even call you up
Just to get your machine
The recording of a dream

INVIA LE CORREZIONI