When the sky is blue, not a single cloud to spot
you have to look carefully, patiently and attentive
Just a second of losing your grip and another star
has fallen behind your back. waiting is the key.

Important producers of light making life slightly
better. A night with stars is more beautiful than
anything I can imagine. Bright gleams, waves
of smooth warmth from the outside within.

A star just made a move, not sure though, but
I desperately need some falling stars. Stars
falling, raining down on me, I desperately need.
So every small move is an important one for me.

They will never give up their spot, just for others
Never when I'm looking, I'm going to bed.

I cannot catch a break, keep my **** together
No control when necessary, no control ever.
Like a small bird, that is taught how to fly
The little bird does not have the ***** to jump

He keeps procrastinating his jump. While others
born after him, already fly to the mountains and
back but this one particularly is still on that cliff
waiting for that moment, the perfect jump.

And the others keep flying further and further
away, losing their grip on their roots, not me
I am still waiting to jump, still not confident.

Why even bother trying. I'll never fly as far
as those other birds. Maybe I should give up
for a while, give myself a break, just wait patiently.

Producing a liquid with so many meanings,
creating pictures right before your mind,
expressing happiness, anger or even facetiousness.
How small can something that essential be?

They will break you so easily, without a doubt,
remodeling every thing you held so dear.
Giving so many wrong impressions
but such a small amount of right ones.

So helpful but never really helping.
Just a simple glance, a glimpse, a quick look,
sold, to the boy with the very dark pair.

you rub them, you close and open them
Capturing this moment, maybe forever
In the end, they'll never let you down.

I keep walking on the pathway that is life
dreaming of every girl that gives a simple sign.
I know I cannot have her, yet I want her to be mine
Even though we've never even met each other.

The connection, only I seem to notice it
And every evening on my bed I sit
crying like a little girl that lost her mother
And I try so hard not to bother.

It makes no sense, but there she is
on the other end of the hallway this
happens without thinking, just staring.

She turns around, her eyes, so godlike and divine
in a glimpse my thoughts and Orpheus' align.
I wish I could make you my wife.

Choosing a girl to love is like going to the store.
You're carrying 99 cents and all you need is just one apple
You search and search and there it is
This apple is perfect, no brown spots, perfect.

You take it to the cashier, she smiles and says:
'What a wonderful choice young man, that 'll be one dollar.'
You cringe, you thought this was the day.
The day you would return home with the perfect apple

Make sure you get enough money in time
Cause when a guy with 5 dollars swoops by
He might take your perfect apple along with 4 others

You run home, searching every corner and every spot
Nothing, return to the store, begging for that apple
'I'm sorry to say so but I sold that apple a second ago.'

There's this girl, nothing like a toucan, she's better.
With a blue bowtie in her long brown hair she
still mesmerises me every day and I let her.
But there is another guy with whom she'd rather be.

And every day she smiles at me with her twinkling
eyes and gentle stare making me experience the slightest tinkling
And whenever she says hi or just anything at all
I float, I climb my big white cloud hoping not to fall.

It starts to storm, another cloud turns up out of the blue
and another, but these aren't white, they're grey and
larger than mine, larger than I ever dreamt of one to be.

I must seek a lower cloud to chase because
the higher your hopes and cloud rise, the stronger
the pain that flows through you when you collapse