Sailin' away on the crest of a wave It's like magic Rollin' and ridin' and slippin' & slidin' And you, and your sweet desire, You took me, higher and higher It's a livin' thing,

Blame it on my ADD baby Sail, sail, sail This is how I show my love I made it in my mind because This is how an angel dies Blame it on my own sick pride Maybe I should cry for help

If you believed in me But it wouldn't be make-believe Without your love Say, it's only a paper moon Sailing over a cardboard sea Yes, it's only a canvas sky Hanging over a muslin tree It's a melody played in a penny arcade It's a Barnum and Bailey world

You'll be a hard luck woman Baby, 'till you find your man I keep telling you hard luck woman You ain't a hard luck woman Rags, the sailor's only daughter A child of the water Too proud to be a queen Rags, I really love ya I can't forget about ya

The skies are burning with thunder The seas are ablaze with flame Set the course for Cartagena The sands of time will remember our names History is written today Sailing the raging seas To distant lands unknown Porto Bello fell in a day Now Britannia

I have journeyed endless nights Seen many harbors where I took rest a while On this boat court near and far To be what you must you must give up what you are Only on a wind of hope my heart sailed Craving mystic oceans to arrive Those who do not leave

Sailing away, beyond the reach of anyone Far beyond the dreams of everyone No light to follow A shot in the dark Does anybody know? High from the heavens I can't see the pain Does anybody care? Our truth is painted across the sky

'Cause our love is like a heatwave Our love is a heatwave It’s burning through the evening rain Sets sail out on an ocean wave Like plunging inside of that fire I cannot contain 'Cause our love is like a heatwave, heatwave, heatwave, heatwave Try so hard

magnifiquement nous sommes tous un peu trop fragiles à regarder tomber la nuit sur le vert-de-gris de nos villes avec nos amours sous la pluie dans cette grisaille silencieuse où les regards de nos déesses deviennent des ombres orageuses

They're selling postcards of the hanging, they're painting the passports brown The beauty parlor is filled with sailors, the circus is in town Here comes the blind commissioner, they've got him in a trance One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker, the