Having washed my face in the frozen stream,
And having lived in guest rooms for the last seven years,
And having doubled in size, admitting animal loving,
I still must find a way how:
How do I live with the romance of the world?
How do I live with the romance?
The lure of scenery.
How do I live with the romance?
The comfort and closed eyes.
How do I live with the romance and admit
That this might be the world where I belong?
How?
I'll sing my song in the parking lot.