Atmosphere

Shotgun ready in the back of the car

Pills gulped down and ready to flow

Music pumping and foot on the gas

We’re going to take back what is hours

We’re going to hell and beat the devil

We’re going so fast that tomorrow is today.

Riding on the highway
With their cadillac
He, a thief
She, a thief
He, long green hair
She, long pink hair
The California sunset
Smoking a joint
Thinking about the next hit
But it’s not just a romantic duo
They’re going to dance tonight
Have a lot of fun
The purple cadillac
Leads them towards the horizon
Nothing can stop them
Nothing.

As long as the funk keeps playing, in the car radio.

There’s nothing.

Just the bright colors of the Sun, of the cars, of the palms. Of the blue sky.

There’s nothing.

Just the bright colors of the fruit, of the signs, of the dresses. Of the red lips.

There’s nothing.

Just the bright colors of the sea, of the clouds, of the shoes. Of the pink nails.

There’s nothing.

Just the bright colors of the flute, of the sax, of the tambourine. Of a funk band.

There’s nothing.

Just Italy.

There’s nothing,
Nothing like tonight.