Russian Hill

I dreamt about a tranquil Sunday drive A sensory lullaby We trade the comic cartoons and Magazines for pistons and gasolines We see the road from the bedside Parked under the sunshine We feel the warmth of the engine So we climb inside And take 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 Dressed in their Sunday best Treeline villages oh so heavenly Cross a bridge of gold to landscapes Of jumper Only eden is for millionaires Watch the clouds turn into faces its 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 Melts away Till we're hopeless Watch the clouds turn into faces Its 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