When we finish our chats,
I always walk backwards
to see your back.
But when I go for real,
you take it as a joke,
and never know what I feel.
It's not your fault,
you like it that way
but I never loose hope.
Every time I talk to you
your creepy little mind
is planning something new.
You´re never around
where I expect you to be,
you're never free. How?
there's something good
in the way you walk,
around every room.
