Vertigo
It's Thursday and she's tired
She sits somewhat cloudy
In front of the TV
Invents literary utopias
And counts calendars from her armchair
She's bothered by so much banality
But still stays like that
Everything bothers her in that damn city
But still stays there
Always playing
To be who she is not
Tell me today
With which of all your walls
Are you going to hit yourself?
She runs, runs, runs
Pretends not to see you
She runs, runs, runs
And behind her is the clock
And she gets dizzy, very dizzy, so dizzy
It's Thursday and she's out of it
And lets a stranger give her warmth
She looks at him sideways while he sleeps
And lets her imagination fly
She's bothered by all that fatality
But still feels like that
So many things bother her already
That it's better to leave it there
Always playing
With a different role
Tell me today
With which of all your walls
Are you going to hit yourself
She runs, runs, runs
Pretends not to see you
She runs, runs, runs
And behind her is the clock
And she gets dizzy, very dizzy, so dizzy
It's late and the night
Turned into day for you
And in the street, there's no one left
To laugh with you
She runs, runs, runs
Pretends not to see you
She runs, runs, runs
Like the wind
And behind her is the clock
And she gets dizzy, very dizzy, so dizzy
