On the eve of the first night you spent in Palermo
You took a smile
And hid it in the roses
For someone you didn’t know to find.

You took off your shoes
And said a few prayers
And sailed a ship
Into the mist

On the eve of the last night you spent in Palermo
You broke ten clocks, and fixed them again.

You packed up your suitcase
And forgot what the sea said
And booked a flight
Back to normal.

On the eve of the first night away from Palermo
You stared at the ceiling, until it turned blue.

You bought an umbrella
And walked through the sunshine.
You’d forgotten what rain was
Since the last day it came.