Desdemona - Sort Sol

Went down your street on a cool summer night

Could not believe my ears were they right

Sounds heading.

Nowhere bound

I couldn’t make my feet turn around

They say the earth shakes under your window

When you twist every word around town

Standing by your little red telephone

Endless rain on the line

Des — de — mo — na — Have you decided —

Who are you today

Cat from Brazil or eighty miles away

Bubbles from your mouth surely bland

Like answers I can’t understand

Des — de — mo — na — Desdemona Scarlett

Wawes her head over me

Desdemona Scarlett

Shows me the bottle

Says: «It'll give you more»

I pick up the bottle

It brings me to the floor

I pick up the bottle

No time to be born