Letras
Invitations coming on the telephone
From the concrete jungle, from a distant zone
So we talk it over and decide to go
There are children crying on the radio
They were people dancing on a night clear
There were crying babies, there were morning tears
When I heard you mama I began to feel
Irritation tearing at my souvenirs
Nightshift
Nightshift
Invitations coming on the telephone
From another station in a different zone
In the silent evening you are ready to go
There are children crying on the radio
Well the people come and then the people go
And their face is melting on the video
When I stared at you the wind began to blow
And you never found what you were looking for
Nightshift
Nightshift
