Rock Me

Oh... whoa oh oh oh...
 

On cijele dane svir'o je na svom klaviru
On klasiku je svir'o po notnom papir
A svir'o je k'o pijanista – Mozarta, Chopena, Liszta
Ja novu pjesmu našla sam da svira
Whoa oh oh oh...
 

Rock me, baby, nije važno šta je
Rock me, baby, samo neka traje
Rock me, baby, ovo je za nervni stres
Whoa oh oh oh...
 

Rock me, baby, nije važno šta je
Rock me, baby, samo neka traje
Rock me, baby, samo neka je za ples
 

Sad cijele dane čujem zvuk starog klavira
Tu pjesmu što se svira bez notnog papira
Jer klasika je da se sluša i da se njom opija duša
A ova pjesma svira se za ples
Whoa oh oh oh...
 

Rock me, baby, nije važno šta je
Rock me, baby, samo neka traje
Rock me, baby, ovo je za nervni stres
Whoa oh oh oh...
 

Rock me, baby, nije važno šta je
Rock me, baby, samo neka traje
Rock me, baby, samo neka je za ples
Whoa oh oh oh...
 

Rock me, baby, nije važno šta je
(Ooh... rock, babe)
Rock me, baby, samo neka traje
(Ooh... rock, rock, rock)
Rock me, baby, ovo je za nervni stres
(Ooh... rock, babe)
(Rock me, baby) Whoa oh oh oh...
 

Rock me, baby, nije važno šta je
(Ooh... rock, babe)
Rock me, baby, samo neka traje
(Ooh... rock, rock, rock)
Rock me, baby, samo neka je za ples
(Ooh... rock, babe)
Samo neka je za ple
(Ooh... rock, rock, rock)
Samo neka je za...
(Ooh... rock, babe)
Whoa oh oh oh... ples
 

You'll See Me Return

When the sun will be bright
inside the mountains and hills,
in the silence of the evening
you'll remember me.
 

But if you'll call my name,
you'll see me return.
 

And you'll have for company
a crowd of thoughts
and your lips will be silent
if it does not speak to your heart.
 

But if you'll call my name,
I'll return.
 

From life, I want to have
five things to remember,
they are (five) five (five) you,
you, you, you, you, you.
 

(When the sun will be bright
inside the mountains and hills,
in the silence of the evening
you'll remember me.)
 

But if you'll call my name,
I'll return.
 

From life, I want to have
five things to remember,
they are (five) five (five) you,
you, you, you, you, you.
 

When the sun will be bright
inside the mountains and hills,
in the silence of the evening
you'll remember me.
 

But if you'll call my name,
I'll return to you!
 

Spring

I want to be in the light of the sun
Without the sun I will die
It seems like spring has arrived
The sky is pretty nice and bright
 

A sign that spring has come
It will embrace you
The pollen is a bit annoying
But I guess I'll wait and see
 

Something very nice is gonna come your way
Let's sing it
 

Take a look outside the window
Enjoy the exercise in the park
Ignore the sun indoors
But is that really okay?
 

Or, you could step outside
Breathe in the sun and feel so alive
The sky is pretty nice and bright
 

A sign that spring has come
It will embrace you
The pollen is a bit annoying
But I guess I'll wait and see
 

A sign that spring has come
It will embrace you
The pollen is a bit annoying
But I guess I'll wait and see
 

And then we just sit still
In this field of grass until summer
Because I wanna go back
To the very last year of high school
 

So much pain
So much strain
 

But still
 

I had friends who made me feel
The way I'll never feel
 

Ever again
 

Life was worth living
With the people who are now all gone
 

Teresinella

'Teresinella, Teresinella
Lower your braids, so I may climb up'
 

Why don’t serenades return again
Those of my grandfather’s day, long past
When, crazy in love with his fair dame
Through these ancient streets he’d sigh:
“Teresinella, Teresinella
Lower your braids, so I may climb up”
 

Tonight, your streets, old neighborhood
Will listen to a new troubadour
Who sings of Ladies and golden braids
Silken ladders, swords, and knights:
“Teresinella, Teresinella
Lower your braids, so I may climb up”
 

Now that braids are no longer in fashion
And there’s no balcony to keep lovers apart
The people of the quarter think and believe
The serenader drinks and perhaps goes too far
“Teresinella, Teresinella
Lower your braids, so I may climb up”
 

Now, if she who loves me with a pale kind of love
Might be behind the balcony listening
She’d think: “But if there’s an elevator
Why does he shout so much? He can come up!”
“Teresinella, Teresinella
You are not the one I want for myself
Golden braids are no longer true
And the troubadour does not sing for you”
 

The dream fades, and the moon departs
Disappointed, the minstrel drifts away
And the echo carries the song to the wind
The dream fades, and the moon departs:
“Teresinella, Teresinella
Lower your braids, so I may climb up”