do not think this is a confession
that I'm making
ain't get nothing, nothing to hide
and nothing to pretend
only incredible, incredible fondness of you
that I'm feeling
on the street, on the christmas trees
between traffic lights
and in every one of my breathing seconds
you are always so far away
do not think this is a confession
that I'm making
ain't get nothing, nothing to hide
and nothing to pretend
just an incredible, incredible fondness of you
that I'm feeling
on the plane, on the kitchen stove
between strangers and inside my head
you are clover and oh so beautiful
on the street, on the christmas trees
between traffic lights
and in every one of my breathing seconds
you are always so far away
only incredible, incredible fondness of you