We walked in the cold air.
|
Freezing breath on a window pane,
|
Lying and waiting.
|
The man in the dark in a picture frame,
|
So mystic and soulful.
|
A voice reaching out in a piercing cry,
|
It stays with you until
|
|
The feeling has gone only you and I.
|
It means nothing to me.
|
This means nothing to me.
|
Oh, Vienna.
|
|
The music is weaving
|
Haunting notes, pizzicato strings,
|
The rhythm is calling.
|
Alone in the night as the daylight brings,
|
A cool empty silence.
|
The warmth of your hand and a cold grey sky,
|
It fades to the distance.
|
|
The image has gone only you and I.
|
It means nothing to me.
|
This means nothing to me.
|
Oh, Vienna.
|
|
This means nothing to me.
|
This means nothing to me.
|
Oh, Vienna.
|
|
-----------------
|
Vienna
|
| Ultravox |
