What do you look at, you look at me
You have not even seen him with me
While you shake hands you are watching him thoroughly
But you eye me, you see me
And you do not know
If it is ended yet when you turn around
If I come there to you when you turn around
With nothing good to say
I close my eyes with my fingers
I run across you, I run across you
I have nothing better do to
Than to remain to play
The summer spins, it spins
On my sides and on my face
It is a record
That I will buy to myself
The summer turns into dream of you
The perverse love is a circle
I count to tree
I count to tree
What do you look at, you look at me
You see, he would not mind
If you come here to visit
When you want
You look at him and then you look at me
And you already know
If you turn, it is already ended
If you turn, she comes here to you
With nothing better to do
Than to remain to watch
The summer spins, it spins
On my sides and on my face
It is a record
That I will buy to myself
The summer turns into dream of you
The perverse love is a circle
I count to tree
One for not to speak
Two for not look
Three to kiss
I count to three
The summer spins, it spins
On my sides and on my face
It is a record that plays
Only in summer when you make
Love in the open air
And you live in another age
In another age
What I look, I look at you
What he looks, he looks at you
Remove that embarassment
And let yourself go
What I look, I look at you