| Twenty-four miles from the city |
| Finally here, gee it’s good to be home once again |
| Hotel no longer looks pretty |
| Falling behind, all the curtains are wasting away |
| CHORUS: |
| Berkley House is standing in the square |
| And all the clouds above, they linger low |
| No one ever comes here anymore |
| No one ever comes here anymore |
| Bristling hard like the clover |
| Covered up chairs, broken frames don’t allow me to see |
| Thinking it carefully over |
| Looking at you, in reflection you’re looking at me |
| repeat CHORUS |
| Maybe I’m wrong but I’ve really been too long away from here |
| Maybe I’m crazy but something keeps telling me «stay» |
| And I wasn’t born to resist everything that keeps calling me |
| And I wasn’t made to evade what my eyes really see |
| La la, la la la la la la la la la la la la la la |
| La la la la la la la la la la la la, la la la |
| And I wasn’t born to resist everything that keeps calling me |
| And I wasn’t made to evade what my eyes really see. |