Ride a bike with no hands
And fly without a propeller
Without a propeller with you
With our hands in the wind
Like it's Sunday with you, with you
You with your feet on the dashboard
The watch under the scorching sun
And I think back to my life without you
And if your mom were a bit less neurotic
And if your dad drank only tonic water today
With our hands in the wind
Like it's Sunday with you, with you
And you squeeze the day between your fingers
Cause soon it's already over
With our hands in the wind
Like it's Sunday with you, with you
Like it's Sunday with you
With our hands in the wind
Like it's Sunday with you, with you
Like it's Sunday with you
With our hands in the wind
Like it's Sunday with you, with you