like, why the hell do I miss you so much?
I wish I'd pick up the phone and hear your voice,
I've been thinking about you non-stop
for the last two months...
and, why I can't prefer another "grafted" tongue
if it expresses my thought so well,
why should I be a slave to an accident,
this fucked up coincidence?
Ich glaube ich muss entscheiden.
Entscheide dich!!
or perhaps, it's just that my dreams are crawling into
my reality, giving me headache, making me weak.
I see these open books before my eyes,
the words I cannot read and I believe...
I should stop imagining I can figure you out,
and accept you'll probably end up getting married
to a girl your mother would approve and your father
would dream about sleeping with.
'cause I, never understood why I felt
your father was such a kind man, unlike your mother,
that goddamned bitch, who hated me, by the way.
I wish I could drop by your place just to see her stupid face
disfigured when she sees me again.
I would take your hand, this time, I wouldn't hide,
I wouldn't hide from anyone, not from myself at least,
my feelings, this open book you see before your eyes,
these words you’re reading, don’t you believe...
You should stop doubting and reach out for me?
for example, why the hell did we hurt each other so much,
that we can't even look into each other's eye,
I feel so strange thinking about you, picturing you
lying down on my bed, reading me poetry,
tearing off each other’s clothes and finally…
There are no more secret codes for writing about us.
