Paradox

Here she walks down the street,
the way she looks at me, it's like a paradox.
I want to go to her,
but I am too shy.
I am too afraid to try.

Even if she likes me,
I can never know.
I am too afraid to ask.
She doesn't even know me,
or who I really am.
She just knows the guy,
just knows my name.

Anyhow – I'm the loser,
even if I'd actually say.
Because I know I'll never,
get her to myself.
This is just not logic,
could it be a hoax?
Because any way I look at it,
this is a paradox.

Here she goes on the carriage way,
driving her small white fiat.
I want to honk to her,
maybe be a little arrogant,
and maybe to propose her.

But she's too perfect for me,
in ways that I'll never be.
I'm too shy to ask.
She doesn't notice me,
it's like I don't exist.
She just knows my name,
and that's still nothing.

Anyhow – I'm the loser,
even if I'd actually say.
Because I know I'll never,
get her to myself.
This is just not logic,
could it be a hoax?
Because any way I look at it,
this is a paradox.

Oh… She's so slippy.
She never seems to pay attention.
She's like tomorrow.
all the time she's one day away…

Anyhow – I'm the loser,
even if I'd actually say.
Because I know I'll never,
get her to myself.
This is just not logic,
could it be a hoax?
Because any way I look at it,
this is a paradox.
This is a paradox.
This is a paradox.