I've got a little diary
That I always carry with me
And on every page
There is a picture of one day
And every time I see
Something that seems special to me
I try to take with me
Whoa-oh-oh, Whoa-oh-oh
But this picture never seem
To resemble reality
Whoa-oh-oh, Whoa-oh-oh
And still I carry them with me
Because they are a part of me
And now I am walking through this city
Some paths I walked maybe a thousand times before
And every time I'm seeing new things
That are so beautiful
And so I take them with me
Whoa-oh-oh, Whoa-oh-oh
But this picture never seem
To resemble reality
Whoa-oh-oh, Whoa-oh-oh
And still I carry them with me
Because they are a part of me
Whoa-oh-oh, Whoa-oh-oh
But this picture never seem
To resemble reality
Whoa-oh-oh, Whoa-oh-oh
And still I carry them with me
Because they are a part of me
That I always carry with me
And on every page
There is a picture of one day
And every time I see
Something that seems special to me
I try to take with me
Whoa-oh-oh, Whoa-oh-oh
But this picture never seem
To resemble reality
Whoa-oh-oh, Whoa-oh-oh
And still I carry them with me
Because they are a part of me
And now I am walking through this city
Some paths I walked maybe a thousand times before
And every time I'm seeing new things
That are so beautiful
And so I take them with me
Whoa-oh-oh, Whoa-oh-oh
But this picture never seem
To resemble reality
Whoa-oh-oh, Whoa-oh-oh
And still I carry them with me
Because they are a part of me
Whoa-oh-oh, Whoa-oh-oh
But this picture never seem
To resemble reality
Whoa-oh-oh, Whoa-oh-oh
And still I carry them with me
Because they are a part of me