My baby lives in his poetic world
The world he’s painted in blue
He travels for his gypsy muse
A lover awaits every road he takes.
My baby lives in luxurious shadow
He enjoys watching this world in gloom
And when he sings, he sings his blues
I’m one of many, one that was true.
My baby drenches my head in ecstasy
In lust and pain, till everything turns black again
Is taking all what’s left of him
always that matter or should it be sane?
I’d rather chase and be your fool
than be a wise one with no name.