Motorama

Budapest

Motorama
stone in your fist smells like sea
refreshing old memories of your lover

the haze over the hills, it's getting cold,
can't chase the time

i see, it's budapest in your eyes
i see, it's budapest in your eyes

and she's falling to my arms, falling apart
and your terror sails so far away

sound of a flute makes you weak
blowing soft melodies to the harbours

it floats near your head, i feel it's warmth
can't breathe enough

i see, it's budapest in your eyes
i see, it's budapest in your eyes

budapest in your eyes, howling through the harbours
budapest in your eyes, blinking through the light

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