you say those proverbs as if you had contrived them i know your arrogance, but do not point it out and you've not changed a bit in three long dismal years i think your flaw isn't so much your fault as a charm maybe i will meet you one day, maybe wednesday, maybe not... still, i'm sure to meet you anyway, maybe thursday, maybe not...
i want be you just like a leaf that has flown away with the wind and the rain this "romance" is so mellow, and "so real" just like a song that has died away with a flash in the night
i would like to be composed of you
you tell your stories as if you had no respect for anyone i sing my songs as if i were a prostitute you take a snap at me, and stuff yourself on my welfare i feel like i am clinging to a cloud maybe i will kiss you slowly, maybe quickly, maybe not... still, i'm sure to kiss you anyway, maybe sweetly, maybe not...
i want to be you it's hard to spend a lifetime for myself with the quakes and the storm this "romance" is an error, and "surreal" it's clear that i love your insensitiveness like the hills and the sky
