Quicksand

I've been coniving,
devising a plan,
to say something brilliant to this girl.
Test driving the words in my head,
cause I'm gonna wreck if I don't.
When she talks suddenly my knees won't bend,
like I'm stuck in quicksand.
And its because the gears that turn my head won't spin
and she slips through my hands
again and again and again.
I love sleeping
cause up in my dreams,
the two of us make a good pair,
but then waking
is a different thing
cause I sort of live in a nightmare.
When she talks suddenly my knees won't bend,
like I'm stuck in quicksand.
And its because
the gears that turn my head won't spin
and she slips through my hands
again and again.
Why do I get so paralyzed
I want to take her by surprise
So I'm coniving rehearsing my lines,
she won't get the best of me this time


Taal: Engels