And the sun colours pale
I know
When I'm washing my face 
In some biblical oil
And the night fades the day
I know
(and) with my trembling voice
I salute You 
It doesn't mean much
As time goes by
As I loose touch
So are you 

These illusions 
I feel
That I'm not much
Of a helping hand
For you to touch 

It doesn't mean much
As time goes by
As I loose touch
So are you 

And the crowd looks real
Again I feel
That I'm riding that bike 
On two burning wheels 

It doesn't mean much
As time goes by
When I loose touch
I loose you… 

(…to be continued) 

When I walk through the crowd
I can see my own band
How they're holding their mikes,
How they walk, how they stand
How they're flirting with the rhymes
And just play in that rocking band
How they're moving backstage with the beercans in their hands
And get drunk and shake the hands of the other rockbands' fans
When I walk through the crowd I can see my own band…