Galilea

Dressed in red, at ten o'clock sharp
I might meet you at the back of the bar
After exchanging fifteen letters a month
In your last letter finally, a blind date
In front of the mirror, I don't see myself so handsome
I've told you I'm a little taller
And I know your name is not Galilee
Whether pretty or ugly, it doesn't matter to me

Galilee,
What luck of mine
I've arranged to meet you
With the sweetest girl, my pen pal friend
Galilee,
What luck of mine
I'm going to see you for real
And finally know your gaze and your real name

The tide
Is rising strongly on my back
Don't fail me, good things only happen once

No, no... eh

An empty space at the back of the bar
Nerves on edge and the clock strikes ten
The door opens and a shadow looks at me
It's her, it's not her, I know, I don't know

Galilee
Galilee...