I lay asleep, dreamed of the journey last summer
when I took the aeroplane to Spain.
When the first day was gone,
all the lights were on,
I've already forgotten where I came from.
I listened to the sound of mellow guitars,
swallowed it up deep into my heart.
I looked into a sky so blue.
I thought must be something new.
New York in the sun. No work to be done.
I'll always return though I've never been there.
Peking in the spring. Follow Ho-Tschi-Min.
Wherever you stay - enjoy holy holidays.
In Canada, late autumn in '95:
this time, too, was the best in my life.
Was it just a dream? Have I really been
on this place I supposed to see?