Stop thinking it will change a thing
If you care for it more or less
Or if it makes you win
I'm about to tell you everything,

That if I cry it's not that I am sad
No, honestly, I'm dying instead
Though you don't want to know,
Well, I won't complain but it is so

Maybe I was cold these days
When I saw the white reflection
Of your skinny waist
As I turned away my face,

But after that you heard what I'd said
That my arms are almost dead
So that it pains to even look
How it got so hard I'll try to mute