You're here with me for the moment
But I know you're going back
You have a brown leather suitcase
You didn't bother to unpack
I've been tying my shoes together
Then I've been trying to walk away
I was a junkie all summer
But autumn's here any day now

How much, how much it feels like, we are losing for the moment
How much, how much it feels like, we are losers on the verge of something great

The stars are directing the future
What they'rе tuning into I can't say
But I want the universe to lovе me
I'm writing songs every day
There's a girl singing into a hairbrush
There's a mob boss in every man
I wish I could sing "tralala"
The way Paolo Conte can
Right

How much, how much it feels like, we are losing for the moment
How much, how much it feels like, we are losers on the verge of something great

Pa-pa-pam
Pa-pa-pam
Pa-pa-pam
Pa-pa-pam
Pa-pa-pam
Pa-pa-pam
On the verge of something great

Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
How much, how much it feels like, we are losing for the moment
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
How much, how much it feels like, we are losers on the verge of something great
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
On the verge of something great
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
We are losers on the verge of something great
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
On the verge of something great
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
(Pa-pa-pam)
On the verge of something great