| He falls asleep on her chest | |
| the best sleep he’d ever met | |
| nevertheless he dreams of some stranger’s caress | |
| so he awakes and he knows | |
| maybe someone else is supposed | |
| to meet his hazy anticipating eyes | |
| he draws the curtains aside | |
| unfolding the first morning light | |
| he glances at his disenchanted life | |
| restlessness is me, you see | |
| it’s hard to be safe | |
| it’s difficult to be happy | |
| it’s the changing of the seasons | |
| he says ”I need them” | |
| I guess I'm too Scandinavian | |
| the relief of spring | |
| intoxication of summer rain | |
| the clearness of fall | |
| how winter makes me reconsider it all | |
| restlessness is me, you see | |
| it’s hard to be safe | |
| it’s difficult to be happy | |
| and then she awakes | |
| reaches for the embrace | |
| he decides not | |
| to worry about seasons again |
| He falls asleep on her chest | |
| the best sleep he' d ever met | |
| nevertheless he dreams of some stranger' s caress | |
| so he awakes and he knows | |
| maybe someone else is supposed | |
| to meet his hazy anticipating eyes | |
| he draws the curtains aside | |
| unfolding the first morning light | |
| he glances at his disenchanted life | |
| restlessness is me, you see | |
| it' s hard to be safe | |
| it' s difficult to be happy | |
| it' s the changing of the seasons | |
| he says " I need them" | |
| I guess I' m too Scandinavian | |
| the relief of spring | |
| intoxication of summer rain | |
| the clearness of fall | |
| how winter makes me reconsider it all | |
| restlessness is me, you see | |
| it' s hard to be safe | |
| it' s difficult to be happy | |
| and then she awakes | |
| reaches for the embrace | |
| he decides not | |
| to worry about seasons again |
| He falls asleep on her chest | |
| the best sleep he' d ever met | |
| nevertheless he dreams of some stranger' s caress | |
| so he awakes and he knows | |
| maybe someone else is supposed | |
| to meet his hazy anticipating eyes | |
| he draws the curtains aside | |
| unfolding the first morning light | |
| he glances at his disenchanted life | |
| restlessness is me, you see | |
| it' s hard to be safe | |
| it' s difficult to be happy | |
| it' s the changing of the seasons | |
| he says " I need them" | |
| I guess I' m too Scandinavian | |
| the relief of spring | |
| intoxication of summer rain | |
| the clearness of fall | |
| how winter makes me reconsider it all | |
| restlessness is me, you see | |
| it' s hard to be safe | |
| it' s difficult to be happy | |
| and then she awakes | |
| reaches for the embrace | |
| he decides not | |
| to worry about seasons again |
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