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Oh, the streets of Rome are filled with rubble, |
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ancient footprints are everywhere. |
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You could almost think that you're seeing double, |
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On the cold, dark night on the Spanish Stairs. |
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Gotta hurry on back to my hotel room, |
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Where I got me a date with a pretty little girl from Greece. |
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She promised she'd be there with me, |
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When I paint my masterpiece. |
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Oh, the hours we spent, inside the Coliseum. |
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Dodging lions, and a-wasting time, |
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oh those mighty kings of the jungle, I could hardly stand to see 'em |
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Yes it sure has been a long, hard drive. |
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Train wheels a-running thru the back of my memory, |
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When I ran on a hilltop following a pack of wild geese, |
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Someday everything is gonna sound like a rhapsody |
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When I paint my masterpiece. |
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Sailing round the world in a dirty gondola, |
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Oh to be back in the land of, Coca-cola. |
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Well I left Rome, and landed in Brussels, |
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On a plane ride so bumpy that I almost cried, |
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Clergy men in uniform, and young girls pulling mussels, |
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Everyone was there to greet me when I stepped inside, |
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Newspaper men eating candy, |
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Had to be held down by big police. |
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Someday, its gonna be different, |
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When I paint my masterpiece. |
