I know nothing about the world
Aside from what I hear and see,
Aside from what I read
I don't know any other countries, even if I've been there myself
I don't know big cities
Except for those in the books
Except for those on tv
I don't know any other city
Than the city in which I live
But she sends me postcards from Madrid.
And there is a letter from Moscow.
With the most beautiful stories. God, she is so sweet.
Yesterday from Lisbon, I miss you and a kiss.
Today from Prague, a small note, because there is so much to do.
And tomorrow when the mailman has found my house again
Then she fills up my heart with all the love from London.
I know nothing about the world.
Aside from what I hear and see, aside from what I feel.
I live day by day, without worry and without goal.
I don't know far away countries
Except from those in my atlas, I dream about them every night.
But I only dream about the countries where she ever thought of me.
Like a beautiful and big belief
On the wall of my thoughts
Hangs a world map, waiting.
Until she returns.
With her travels in my head
I put down flags in the earth
The same colour, the same value.
But she sends me postcards from Madrid.
And there is a letter from Moscow.
With the most beautiful stories. God, she is so sweet.
Yesterday from Lisbon, I miss you and a kiss.
Today from Prague, a small note, because there is so much to do.
And tomorrow when the mailman has found my house again
Then she fills up my heart with all the love from London.