From the end of my street
_____
A silhouette like a high-pitched sound
_____
Moves closer, level with my bare eyes
_____
The silhouette, it's a girl
_____
Roaring like a squadron
That overpowers my morale
I look at her, she smiles at me
_____
I drop my guard and my gaze to tell myself
_____
Who squeezes down the aisle
_____
Her stride gives her wings
_____
But I don't dare get carried away
_____
If I ever get close to her
From the middle of my street
_____
The silhouette like a cloud
Slips away without a sound
_____
Everything's jostling in my head
_____
High on the urge to please
_____
Yet I seem to please her
_____
What have I done to the good Lord
_____
To stay true to this confession
_____
Who squeezes down the aisle
_____
Her stride gives her wings
_____
But I don't dare get carried away
_____
If I ever get close to her
_____
Unreachable like a swallow
_____
I calculate in my head
_____
High on the urge to please
_____
Still, it's a celebration
_____
The fantasy that can distract
_____
I'm not perfect, I'm not perfect
_____
But I draw a line under that confession
_____
Her stride gives her wings
_____
But I don't dare get carried away
_____
If I ever get close to her
_____
Who squeezes down the aisle
_____
Her stride gives her wings
_____
But I don't dare get carried away
_____
If I ever get close to her
_____
Who squeezes down the aisle
_____
Her stride gives her wings
_____
But I don't dare get carried away
_____
If I ever get close to her