the broken glass that fades

the past is a parade of contless days

painting patterns in the sand



my motorcycle brain

remains to be explained

its like a summer rain

pictures passing through a field

blowing into the horizon



watching the shadows on the wall

tell me can you se my thoughts

watching the shadows on the wall

have you seen it all before



I need a friendly hand

someone who understand me

by the river bed

when there is nothing to be said, anyway

its all inside your head

you know it



watching the shadows on the wall

tell me can you se my thoughts

watching the shadows on the wall

have you seen it all before, before, before