When in the morning the fog of the streets Caresses our window pane We roll around, killing cats in our dreams These pyjama days
We cannot be aroused by the garbageman shouting at cars To get out the way Nothing will break the spell we are under These pyjama days Oh, these pyjama days
Right when her friends, sitting at desks Begin the day checking their e-mails She's on the carpet, clipping her nails These pyjama days Oh, these pyjama days
Will I strike gold in this world of the next? Do we live our lives in vain? She's in the other room, shaving her legs These pyjama days
And when the evening streetlights come on Our little stomachs aching We dine on doughnuts older than Rome These pyjama days Oh, these pyjama daysTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
