Russian Hill

I dreamt about a tranquil

Sunday drive

A sensory lullaby

We trade the comic cartoons and

Magazines for pistons and gasolines

We see the road from the bedside

Parked under the sunshine

We feel the warmth of the engine

So we climb inside

And take to the motorway

Watch the clouds turn into faces

It's fun to play

Shift the gears for years and age

A single day

Until we spill onto russian hill

Past cathedrals filled with god's

Favorite guests

Dirty hands feel clean

Dressed in their

Sunday best

Treeline villages oh so heavenly

Cross a bridge of gold to landscapes

Of jumper

Only eden is for millionaires

Watch the clouds turn into faces its

Fun to play

Shift the gears for years and age

A single day

Until we spill onto russian hill

I'm pulling through the last

Stoplight

We head home past the shoreline

And through the rear view mirror it

Melts away

Till we're hopeless

Watch the clouds turn into faces

Its fun to play

We're hopeless

We shift the gears for years and age

A single day

It fades away

For like curtains close this sunset matinee

A dream fulfilled on russian hill