Lyric

Behind white bubbles on the old terrace chair

Easy just to be alive, watching sunsets there

Couples walking by, hand in hand they go

Mirroring each other, stepping soft and slow

Behind white bubbles

On the old terrace chair

Easy to be living

Watching sunsets there

Men on the rooftops, working Sunday through

Always paid by the hour, always running behind, it’s true

A half-full glass beside me, some money in my jeans

Ready in this world, with foam upon my dreams

Behind white bubbles

On the old terrace chair

Easy to be living

Watching sunsets there

It’s the foam on my glass

That fades and drifts away

Just like our days

That burst and float away

Behind white bubbles

On the old terrace chair

Easy to be living

Watching sunsets there