|
And with the new light |
|
Goes every morning |
|
I walk the same streets |
|
The same every day |
|
Passed by the people |
|
Who go to the center |
|
The lines of their cars |
|
They look the same way |
|
[chorus] |
|
I look for a shelter |
|
I go slipping away |
|
I look for a shelter |
|
And my time of day |
|
To some quiet place |
|
To find colours of joy |
|
I look for a shelter |
|
And this is my time |
|
Dream of a child |
|
A physical presence |
|
How she does touch me |
|
It stays in my soul |
|
No use to deny |
|
Existence of passion |
|
There's no way to play it |
|
Turn away from inside |
|
[chorus] |
|
To some quiet place |
|
To find colours of joy |
|
I look for a shelter |
|
And this is my time |
|
Stood by the statue |
|
Stare out of the square |
|
Watching the dreams that are many |
|
Filled with a life of their own |
|
A crippled young child |
|
The pain of a short life |
|
To bear curses of men |
|
And the turning away |
|
I walk the same streets |
|
The same every day |
|
I walk the same streets |
|
The same every day |
|
[chorus] |
|
To some quiet place |
|
To find colours of joy |
|
I look for a shelter |
|
This is my time |
