From far, far away you are coming to me How can I speak my quaking mind? You... have captivated me from the first time. You gave me an incurable disease.
I'd like to be a flower pot I always pray that on your small window sill I'll be a flower pot not being able to speak not being able to yearn Occasionally receiving your smile and the touch of your hand and geting to look at your face without end, as you slipe.
Futher and futher you are going away. How can I relie my falling tears? You... have had my heart from the first time You've made me suffer from an incurable disease.
Wanting to be a flower pot I always pray on your small window sill I'll be a flower pot not being able to speak not being able to yearn Occasionally receiving your smile and the touch of your hand and geting to look at your face without end, as you slipe.
On your small window sill I'll be a flower pot not being able to speak not being able to yearn Occasionally receiving your smile and the touch of your hand and geting to look at your face without end, as you slipe.