Vārdi: Graziano Romani. Painting Over Rust. From Our Hands.

There's a man on the corner, as the world rushes by
all the dreams in his head, turning into a lie
and a white dove is bleeding, perched on a gas-station sign
telephone is ringing and the planes are high-flying
women are working while children keep crying
and almost everybody's got something to hide

Now love's the only thing worth looking for
and we better keep on searching everywhere
until we find the love we're wishing for
in a world of confusion, bringin' us down
oh don't let love-oh slip away from our hands...
From our hands, slide away from our hands.

God is silently watching, late night breaking news
commercials keep promising bogus eternal youth
while angels are shackled and the devil is loose
total fever arising and a bad moon is, too
on the broken homes of our sad deja vu
and everything that lies ahead for us to walk through

Now love's the only thing worth craving for
and we better keep on searching everywhere
until we find the love we're begging for
in a world of illusion, holding us down
oh don't let love-oh slip away from our hands...
From our hands, slide away from our hands.

Now love's the only thing worth looking for
and we better keep on searching everywhere
until we find the love we're hoping for
in a world of confusion, tearin' us down
oh don't let love-oh slip away from our hands...
From our hands, slide away from our hands
slip away from our hands, from our hands.