I want to sail until the ends of the earth
In search of my October Country
My caravel will be moved by the dream
The dream of discovering a land there
Where every morning will be Sunday
When we stay in bed until very late
At lunchtime it will always be Saturday
A lunch that will last until early night
In the October Country every night will be Friday
And we will all gather to talk and drink
In a never-ending and delicious bar chat
Monday mornings will be definitely forbidden
Also Sunday nights and boring Wednesdays
And every day will be the eighth, October the eighth