Monday the seventh, I met for lunch with Larry,
And there he told me, the same old daily stories,
About his rundown yellow car,
About his shoes and his guitar,
Very boring, so I got up and left him...

Friday the second, I got lost within a music session,
Chilling, listening, to the same song just cause of passion,
I can’t await that single line, which hooks me up just for a while,
A shiver’s strumbling down my face,
The perfect time, the perfect place...

REF
Whish I could just rewrite those lines, containing more than useless time,
Whish I could make, the future mine, I need a change and so I,
Whish I could just rewrite those lines, containing more than useless time,
Useless time...

INSTR

Sunday the fourteenth, a cold and cloudy morning,
The rain blurred my window, and I forgot I was used to,
Get out of bed to have a break, a cup of coffee and a cake,
I hope the sun’s at least alive, perhaps I’ll borrow me a smile...

REF
Whish, that I could just rewrite those lines, containing more than useless
Time,
Whish I could make, the future mine, I need a change and so I,
Whish I could just rewrite those lines, containing more than useless time,
Useless time...

INSTR

And this is what, I read about,
In someone’s diary I found...