In Bicicletta

Strolling on a bike next to you,
pedaling without rush on Sunday morning,
a drop of frost in your hair,
but a red face like a little girl,
never a puff of smoke breathing,
while falling in love.
Along the silent avenues next to you,
with those cheerful and enthusiastic boyish eyes,
what do you say we grab a sandwich,
there's a little bar right nearby,
while you're blowing your nose,
I'm falling more and more in love.

And my thoughts go beyond that garden,
I see a house and then I see a child and us.
Strolling on a bike next to you,
pedaling without rush feeling you close,
which way are we going now, guess,
the future was born this morning,
first I brake and then I descend,
sorry if I'm hugging you,
sorry if I'm hugging you.

And my thoughts go beyond that garden,
I see a house and then I see a child and us.
Strolling on a bike next to you,
pedaling without rush on Sunday morning,
While falling in love.
While falling in love.
While falling in love.
I'm falling more and more in love