Hun smiler i søvne
Du klyver forbi
Du kler deg i mørket
En dør smekker i
Så står du i gangen
Du kom hit i natt
Nå våkner hun kanskje
Men nå er du dratt

Tidlig en søndag
Byen er blå
Sent i november
Dagen derpå
Du har ikke sovet
Du er ikke trett
Du går i en gate
Du aldri har sett

Er gatene mange
Er tankene fler
Du hører en latter
Du snur deg og ser
Det var bare deg selv
Og en djevel som lo
Det vokser en valmue
I ditt blod


SUNDAY MORNING

She smiles in her sleep
you pass by
you dress in the dark
a door closes behind
you are in the hallway
you came here tonight
she might awake
but now you have left

Early one Sunday
the city's blue
late in november
the day after (means having a hang over)
you have not sleep
you're not tired
you're walking in a street
you never have seen

If the streets are many
the thoughts are even more
you hear a laughter
you turn and see
it was only yourself
and a devil who smiled
it grows a poppy in your blood