Vanilla
First time I met you in America
You showed me the way to your lonely Mars
Where I tumbled down, where I fall apart

Would you let me call your name, Vanilla?
Later you moved to Venezuela
Morphing to flowers, blossom in the park
I begged the sun for keeping you unharmed

Would you let me climb on your stems?
And pick up all your gems
I’ll seed it in the sand
Could be November, you’ll understand
Next time we meet won’t be too long away

Vanilla
Are you flying alone to Florida?
Storms on the radar
It’s raining hard tonight
I’ll be the shelter in your abandoned yard

It’s last time I call your name, Vanilla
I was the pilot of the shooting star
I’ve been to places
Now on your lonely Mars
Weaving villa in the dark