I wrote it when I was younger.
And I post this one today
for I am still full of that hunger.
Do I love her?
Do I love her?
Of course not.
Can't you see,
She is not what I want.
But then,
Why in the spring,
when the flowers are
blooming by my side;
When the wind is
smoothly caressing me
with its hand.
When there is so much to see,
Why am I still
lost in her thoughts?
Why in the winter,
when all around is snow;
when no living soul
would dare venture out;
Why then I spend my mornings there,
Standing in front of her house
to see, but a glimpse
by that window side?
Why in the mornings,
When the sun is baking all;
And the hot ferocious wind is
sucking energy out;
Why then would I come to,
come to her at noon,
When all I would be getting,
just the moonlight
not the moon.
Do I love her?
C'mon are you mad?
I still insist that
I love her not.
Do I love her?
Of course not.
Can't you see,
She is not what I want.
But then,
Why in the spring,
when the flowers are
blooming by my side;
When the wind is
smoothly caressing me
with its hand.
When there is so much to see,
Why am I still
lost in her thoughts?
Why in the winter,
when all around is snow;
when no living soul
would dare venture out;
Why then I spend my mornings there,
Standing in front of her house
to see, but a glimpse
by that window side?
Why in the mornings,
When the sun is baking all;
And the hot ferocious wind is
sucking energy out;
Why then would I come to,
come to her at noon,
When all I would be getting,
just the moonlight
not the moon.
Do I love her?
C'mon are you mad?
I still insist that
I love her not.
