I walk these streets like a shadow, a trap hidden in every corner My hometown for a million years, Maia! Still, I feel lke a foreigner. What if she’s brilliant, Maia? What if she’s as smart as me? What if he’s chosen her so well I could have loved her myself? Don’t tell me, my soul was never that bold. I fold, Maia, I fold.
I’ve been spending these days wondering what would be worst: if she’s pretty or if she’s not If she is, I could hold him as shallow. I could feast for days on that
But if she isn’t, I’ll know that it’s true love - but against beauty, I cannot compete - It’s July, but my fingers are cold. I fold, Maia. I fold. And there are days when I want to feel him so bad it makes me lose my sleep There are nights I could swear I got the fever just thinking of him Maia, you said I should try counting sheep. So I met them, it was on a Sunday. I ran into them on the street There I was with my near perfect CV, there I was with my college degree My clothes much more well-fitting than hers, my comments more witty and street She’s got the bosom of an eighteen year old. I fold, Maia, I fold.