I found the perfect picture, of a perfect strangerIt looked as if, it were ataken in the fourties sometime,Judging by the style.He could be a killer, or a blind man with a canePerhaps he died in a car crash, years ago.Right now, it's impossible to tellI almost thought I saw him, standing, whistling on a bridge.I asked him the time, but when he turned around,I saw it wasn't him at all.I'm still searching.I'm still searching.I saw him in an airport, while he was sitting on a wing.And I waved to him, but I don't think he noticed me.I've got a funny feeling...I know who he is.
Ossessione
I found the perfect picture, of a perfect strangerIt looked as if, it were ataken in the fourties sometime,Judging by the style.He could be a killer, or a blind man with a canePerhaps he died in a car crash, years ago.Right now, it's impossible to tellI almost thought I saw him, standing, whistling on a bridge.I asked him the time, but when he turned around,I saw it wasn't him at all.I'm still searching.I'm still searching.I saw him in an airport, while he was sitting on a wing.And I waved to him, but I don't think he noticed me.I've got a funny feeling...I know who he is.