On a park bench in the cold, well I told you so, it's not the way to go, oh no Even if you're 21, you need to see the sun, you can't live with it yourself On a station in the snow, along the street, you're blowing a bow made out of your dreams, it seems Cold in my head, going mad, my mother said she's not the way to go, oh no Concrete clouds go by, splashing water in my eyes, trees will seize me, what you gonna do then? On a park bench in the cold, well I told you so, it's not the way to go, oh no Even if you're 21, you need to see the sun, you can't live with it yourself On a station in the snow, along the street, you're blowing a bow made out of your dreams, it seems Cold in my head, going mad, my mother said she's not the way to go