He wrote the script by himself
a year ago
smelling the ink of the pen
And now he is wondering
if he'll tear it again

She appeared to be in his arms
and than she was gone
He expressed on the papers
She's still lying on his room's floor

Why.. oh why
she still makes him cry


It was worth it
despite the minute of ache
the hundredth part of a second with magic
made no sense
Who really cares?

As long as he considered
these feelings as forbidden
He kept them in the drawer
so no one could know

But who really wanted
to be poisoned by him
trying to figure out his philosophical words
You better stay fool
and a happy creature
it's so frightening to get too close


Why... oh why
she still makes him cry


And as he finished
the scene was complete
she rose on her feet
opposed to it
The shade of her body  
is still lying there today
she got wisdom, she's running away

And now... oh now...
she still makes him cry

Without saying goodbye... he doesnt want to die!