From far, far away you [bad word] to me
How can I speak my quaking mind?
You...
have captivated me from the first time.
You gave me an incurable disease. 

I'd like to be a flower pot
I always pray that
on your small window sill 
I'll be a flower pot
not being able to speak 
not being able to yearn
Occasionally receiving 
your smile and the touch of your hand
and geting to look at your face without end, 
as you slipe. 

Futher and futher you are going away.
How can I relie my falling tears? 
You... have had my heart from the first time
You've made me suffer from an incurable disease. 

Wanting to be a flower pot 
I always pray
on your small window sill 
I'll be a flower pot
not being able to speak 
not being able to yearn
Occasionally receiving 
your smile and the touch of your hand
and geting to look at your face without end, 
as you slipe. 

On your small window sill 
I'll be a flower pot
not being able to speak 
not being able to yearn
Occasionally receiving 
your smile and the touch of your hand
and geting to look at your face without end, 
as you slipe.