In the soft fog of the passions
That come from the inside of us
You are coming back
To have fun in my yard
Riding your horse
With your naked chest, hair blowing in the wind
And the Sun is clearing
Our clothes on the clothes line
In the soft fog of the passions
That come from inside of us
You are coming back
To have fun in my yard
Riding your horse
With your naked chest, hair blowing in the wind
And the Sun is clearing
Our clothes on the clothes line
You come, you come
I can already hear your signs
You come, you come
I can already hear your signs
A voice of an angel
Whispered into my ear
And I have no doubt
I already listen to your signs
You would come
In a Sunday morning
I annunciate you
Ringing the bells of the Cathedrals
You come, you come
I can already hear your signs
You come, you come
I can already hear your signs