It's in the air, and it shines like rain.
I think you didn't notice, [bad word] back again.
Listen very closely, you might hear the sound.
It's getting deeper, spinning around.

The green-eyed lady of the lowlands, sitting in a silver chair.
She gave me some postcards, orange in her hair.
She turns iron into silver, plastic into gold.
About these Celtic rings, no story has been told.

It's all about inspiration, empty pages in a book
You are changing colour every time I look
perfect circle is created by a different tool
Some food at the station, yes, that's cool

Anachrone circles in the sky,
You may catch them if you try.
Meet me at the demasquà and make my day.