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Russian Hill

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  • I dreamt about a tranquil Sunday drive
    A sensory lullaby
    We trade the comics, cartoons and magazines
    For pistons and gasoline
    We see the road from the bedside
    Parked under the sunshine
    We feel the warmth of the engine, so we climb inside
    And take it to the motorway
    Watch the clouds turn into faces, it's fun to play
    Shift the gears for years and age a single day
    Until we spill onto Russian Hill
    Past cathedrals filled with God's favorite guests
    Dirty hands feel clean when dressed in their Sunday best
    Treeline village, oh, so heavenly
    Cross a bridge of gold to landscapes of juniper
    Only Eden is for millionaires
    Watch the clouds turn into faces, it's fun to play
    Shift the gears for years and age a single day
    Until we spill onto Russian Hill
    I'm pulling through the last stoplight
    We head home past the shoreline
    And through the rear view mirror it all melts away
    'Til we're helpless
    Watch the clouds turn into faces, it's fun to play
    (We're hopeless)
    We shift the gears for years and age a single day
    (It fades away)
    For like curtains close this sunset matinee
    A dream fulfilled on Russian Hill
  • I dreamt about a tranquil Sunday drive
    A sensory lullaby
    We trade the comics, cartoons and magazines
    For pistons and gasoline
    We see the road from the bedside
    Parked under the sunshine
    We feel the warmth of the engine, so we climb inside
    And take it to the motorway
    Watch the clouds turn into faces, it's fun to play
    Shift the gears for years and age a single day
    Until we spill onto Russian Hill
    Past cathedrals filled with God's favorite guests
    Dirty hands feel clean when dressed in their Sunday best
    Treeline village, oh, so heavenly
    Cross a bridge of gold to landscapes of juniper
    Only Eden is for millionaires
    Watch the clouds turn into faces, it's fun to play
    Shift the gears for years and age a single day
    Until we spill onto Russian Hill
    I'm pulling through the last stoplight
    We head home past the shoreline
    And through the rear view mirror it all melts away
    'Til we're helpless
    Watch the clouds turn into faces, it's fun to play
    (We're hopeless)
    We shift the gears for years and age a single day
    (It fades away)
    For like curtains close this sunset matinee
    A dream fulfilled on Russian Hill

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