Letra de Analog Park
In the garden, in the park, on a bench, I sit. A newspaper floats on the breeze of this late summer. It is coming my way, I patiently wait.I see the sign, it's on the road And I think it's crazyIn the garden, of the park, on a bench, I watch. The sandy feet of the children. Pearls of sweat run across their beautiful faces.You see the sign, it's on the road But I think you're crazyYou are, you are the sign Of my unreliefAs I easily get inner contact with myself, I notice distress grabbing for my throat. It is time to reach out. To find something that isn't there,You see the signs, they're on the road But I think it's crazyYou are, you are the sign Of my unrelief