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the broken glass that fadesthe past is a parade of countless dayspainting patterns in the sandmy motorcycle brainremains to be explainedit's like a summer rainpictures passing through a fieldblowing into the horizonwatching the shadows on the walltell me can you see my thoughts?watching the shadows on the wallhave you seen it all before?i need a friendly handsomeone who'll understand me by the river bedwhen there's nothing to be said anywaysit's all inside your head you know it.watching the shadows on the walltell me can you see my thoughts?watching these shadows on the wallhave you seen it all before?