Forty-five past seven I'm going college. People seem to smile, think I'm crazy or fool. But I don't care, why should I mind if today i'm seeing you? And last saturday I got happy, I got what I've been whishing and that's why I'm smiling alone, that's why I'm happily whistling.

Something like midday I'm going home. People seem impressed, it makes me feel alone. But I don't care, why should I mind if to say goodbye I can hug you?

Mr. Brown Eyes, don't go away. Look at the skies like we did last saturday.