i hold the pen, slip right under
and spend all day inside
i get angry when i write letters to myself
i drink the rain and call for thunder
but can't survive the storm
i get jealous so i write letters to myself
i lift my head and look beyond her
i'm not turning round again
i'm not stupid so i know the letters go unread
so i take myself to a quiet corner
and work all through the night
i'll build a model of you
i feel nothing when i hear you talk
‘cause i know that you don't read them
now that all i have is time
i'll build a model of you
i feel nothing when i see you smile
and you're coming around again
maybe in a thousand letters time
i'll have a model of you

KORREKTUREN ÃœBERMITTELN