It's all coming back to me, as if we ran away just yesterday
Two lunatics speeding [also: flying] like a rocket on the sidewalk
I suddenly remember all that we had promised
And how comfortable it is to forget
It's all coming back to me, the old Fiat
That we had burned the roads with, and people and tunnels
A room that we had rented and the first cigarette
Tell me, how come we both gave in to regular apartments?
Old friend, how are you these days?
A bomb of longing is ticking in my gut
I reminisce the days of freedom and guitars
When all that was broken was the entrance to Heaven
It's all coming back to me, when you looked into my eyes
And suddenly I didn't feel like the loneliest of islands
How we jumped off that bridge with no fear or wings
Everything is sterile nowadays - there's nothing to kill yourself for
Old friend, how are you these days?
A bomb of longing is ticking in my gut
I reminisce the days of freedom and guitars
When all that was broken was the entrance to Heaven
It's all coming back to me, days we haven't known
Dawns of Instagram or happy pills
Among the pages of nostalgia - both of us remained
Like two lunatics, speeding on the sidewalk
Old friend, how are you these days?...