Oomm

Oo-mm
Oo-mm

I clean out the backpack from those days that are gone and not coming back
They went to mess with new dreams that are old and sleepless

I mix symphonies in my coffee
And I head out for a walk
I whistle at the window of my loyal friend
I talk about the limping guy with
He tells me about Ivan
Julia and Denise
The secret on the palate

Feel
That there’s more
On the shore is the canal

Oo-mm
Oo-mm

I have a golden-edged scissors resting next to me
Because lies are turning gray and I need to cut them

The crap that’s on
TV
Wants to soften your illusion
Big bellies blasting in the sun
With the strength right on the surface
I mix symphonies, seagulls, and coffee
The path is made to walk

Feel
There’s more
A new channel