If I was a composer,
I'd write a masterpiece for you,
title it Für Dich, then
make violins sing just how much
ich bin für dich.

If I was a better painter,
you'd be my muse.
I'd paint your musical eyes
and whimsical soul, and they
still wouldn't be as lively
as the real you.

If I were myself,
I'd attack you from behind,
kiss you deeply, talk about
our days, share my deepest
secrets, make you understand
this deep, deep feeling
I feel for you.

But away with these "If I were" scenarios.
I am not myself.
I'm in pain.

You're far away when you're just an
inch from me.
Two things I need when you're next
to me:
Restraint. A smile that can reach my eyes.
I can only really have one.
Restraint's difficult but it's easier.
The smiles crack the dam...

If you don't stop making me
feel so freaking happy,
I will pour and pour and pour and...

If I were a dam,
I'd give up. Burst.
If our relationship is a bridge,
I hope I don't damage it.