Doris Sams

I’m surrounded by people who, one day, will be gone
The sea will soon fade our precious vows, they’re written in the sand
I watch her pictures and what I see is everything I’m not
A dog, a marriage, some frisbee games, 7 years are gone
And as we talk it just feels the same, time doesn’t fade it all
We’re growing up then we’re losing touch, but the same joke makes me laugh

Past eleven, he’s coming too close
Past eleven, he’s coming too close
We all try to conceal our secret parts
There’s a werewolf in my such good mannered pal
This kind of guy to keep the right distance with his mind
Is trying, trying to get closer to me

Past eleven, his face is way too close
Your breath smells awesome, I like you when you’re around
But still pas à son aise
Is this imagination? Sometimes I fear you just wanna kiss me
Past eleven, your mouth is way too close from mine
Past eleven, my cheek gets raped by your nose