Strophe:
It is in an august summer.
I while away my time.
Just by thinking about nothing else.
But how to get high.

Someone taps me on the shoulder.
Says he likes my eyes.
They’d look like the sky above us.
Being without clouds.

Bridge:
Despite this artist’s awful poem.
There is a reason why.

Refrain:
I feel that I am alive.
Yes I feel that I am alive.
And I know this looks like paradise.
But did you hear about this weird little thing called love.

Strophe:
I write a corny postcard.
“lots of sun”, “nice people”, “yours”…
Sincerely spoken I don’t miss you .
I think about last night.

Bridge:
We lit a fire near at beach.
Oh what a cosy place, that makes me.

Refrain:
I feel that I am alive.
Yes I feel that I am alive.
And I know this looks like paradise.
But did you hear about this weird little thing called love.

Strophe:
Rain drops running down the window.
The alarm wakes me up.
But I’m still dreaming ‘bout last summer.
A certain picture in my hand that makes me…

Refrain:
Dream that I am away.
Yes I dream I’m far away.
The place I know that looks like paradise.
But did you hear about this weird little thing called love.