Monday the seventh, I met for lunch with Larry, 
And there he told me, the same old daily stories, 
About his rundown yellow car, 
About his shoes and his guitar, 
Very boring, so I got up and left him... 
Friday the second, I got lost within a music session, 
Chilling, listening, to the same song just cause of passion, 
I can’t await that single line, which hooks me up just for a while, 
A shiver’s strumbling down my face, 
The perfect time, the perfect place... 
REF
Whish I could just rewrite those lines, containing more than useless time, 
Whish I could make, the future mine, I need a change and so I, 
Whish I could just rewrite those lines, containing more than useless time, 
Useless time... 
INSTR
Sunday the fourteenth, a cold and cloudy morning, 
The rain blurred my window, and I forgot I was used to, 
Get out of bed to have a break, a cup of coffee and a cake, 
I hope the sun’s at least alive, perhaps I’ll borrow me a smile... 
REF
Whish, that I could just rewrite those lines, containing more than useless
Time, 
Whish I could make, the future mine, I need a change and so I, 
Whish I could just rewrite those lines, containing more than useless time, 
Useless time... 
INSTR
And this is what, I read about, 
In someone’s diary I found...