En dröm om paris

I’m walking down the streets of lost souls
Left a warm bed for the passion in the air
Far away I sense the morning
But still there is some darkness left for me
Still there is wine to drink straight from the bottle

I look up in the night and see a lady fly
On the ground there is a man left to die
I just pass them by, searching for my own adventure

The gambler cracks into puzzle pieces
The old joker loves his smack
I hold on to my bottle and pass them by
Searching for my own adventure

I see the old man paint the sky in pink
The morning is finally here to get me
He offer me some wine and bread
And some colouring of my heart

He tells me the story about the streets
The streets of lost souls