Lördag kväll

The highway is full of cars
going nowhere fast
And folks is smoking anything
that burn.
Some people wrap their lifes around
a cocktailglass
And you sit wondering
where you´re going to turn.
I got it.
Come and be my baby

Some prophets say the earth
are gonna end tomorrow
But others say we´ve a week or two
The paper is full of every kind of
blooming horror.
And you sit wondering
where you´re going to turn.
I got it.
Come and be my baby

Maya Angelou