We walked in the cold air. - Freezing breath on a window pane, - Lying and waiting. - The man in the dark in a picture frame, - So mystic and soulful. - A voice reaching out in a piercing cry, - It stays with you until

The feeling has gone only you and I. - It means nothing to me. - This means nothing to me. - Oh Vienna,.

The music is weaving - Haunting notes, pizzicato strings, - The rhythm is calling. - Alone in the night as the daylight brings, - A cool empty silence. - The warmth of your hand and a cold grey sky, - It fades to the distance.

The image has gone only you and I. - It means nothing to me. - This means nothing to me. - Oh, Vienna.

This means nothing to me. - This means nothing to me.
Oh, Vienna.

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