Will be now a year, a year I put on paper everyday my feeling

All those feeling make me think that I should always go when I just want to stay

And once again I want to escape to go far, will someone ever know how to hold my hand and tell me how not to go?

If he is too perfect I go, too loving, too addicted, too boring, too far, too old, too young I always leave afraid that love could take me.