Oh, the streets of Rome are filled with rubble,
Ancient footprints are everywhere,
You could almost think that you're seeing double
On a cold, dark night on the Spanish Stairs.
Got to hurry on back to my hotel room,
Where I've got me a date with Botticelli's niece –
Yep, she promised that she'd be right there with me
When I paint my masterpiece.
Oh, the hours that I've spent inside the Colosseum,
Dodging lions and wasting time.
Oh, those mighty kings of the jungle, I could hardly stand to see 'em –
Yes, it sure has been a long, hard climb.
Train wheels running through the back of my memory
As the daylight hours do increase,
Someday everything is gonna be smooth like a rhapsody
When I paint my masterpiece.
I left Rome and landed in Brussels
With a picture of a tall oak tree by my side.
Clergymen in uniform and young girls pulling bustles,
Everyone was there and nobody tried to hide.
Newspapermen
1 eating candy,
Had to be held down by big police;
Someday, everything is gonna be different
When I paint my masterpiece.
1
This could be singular: "newspaperman".