The floating of clouds, enchanting and slow, Is the sweetest thing that life could make me. And with warm hands in my pockets, I suddenly remember... I'm trying to see something in them And asking myself: Is it just a stock phrase Or does the last to finish win the race? And with warm hands in my pockets, I suddenly remember all the times I've seen you laughing And there was not enough rain to quench my thirst. I've some good stories to tell, And I show my silver hair like a peaco*k's tail. And with warm hands in my pockets, I suddenly remember all the times I've seen you laughing And there was not enough rain to quench my thirst