I lie for days in my bed and have nothing to do,
And after I get up I still relaxed
And I often wonder if I write to you,
And I am annoyed because I always stay lying...
Now I miss so much, which I liked because of you
I cry at to home against the wall
And outside silently, as for me
And sometimes I think
And sometimes I think
I want again to be with you
Not nothing without you,
But less, much less for me
Not nothing without you,
But less, much less for me
And then I listen to the comments of my friends
Because, yeah, everyonehave right to speak
But I really don't want to hear all this
Because this advice bother me
And now I miss so much, which I liked because of you
I cry at to home against the wall
And outside silently, as for me
And sometimes I think
And sometimes I think
I want again to be with you
Not nothing without you,
But less, much less for me
Not nothing without you,
But less, much less for me
Not nothing without you,
But less for me
Not nothing without you,
But less, much less for me
Not nothing without you,
But less, much less for me
Not nothing without you,
But less
And since I lie in my bed again and have nothing to do
And you write me that you want nothing more to hear from me
And then I think, I've never told you everything,
But after all not nothing