You're way too early, way too far, way too often taken too seriously. You're way too early, way too far, way too often taken too seriously. It blinds you, the bright light, but today it becomes artificial. No left, right, straight on, the flame that lights you up is now off. And ten days later you tell me you want me back. It's a shame it's necessary, so you know you don't like me. And it's okay, but you're wrong. And it's not a thing, but it's not nice either. Six nights and six days and I dare to ask the question. A silent pain passes by, I suppress it with a joke. It burns a high applause from me, time to understand what you mean to me. And ten days later you tell me you don't want to go on. It's a shame it's necessary, so you know you don't like me. And it's okay, but you're wrong. And it's not a thing, but it's not nice either. Ooh. And ten days later you tell me you want me back. Too bad you don't need it. And it's okay. But it hurts. And it's not a thing. But it's not nice either. It's not nice.