Never the same.

It was never the same

The sun shines above our heads.

It's the same sun, the same sky,

but still, it's not the same place,

it's not the same...

Because it was never the same

to love and be loved.

And it was never the same

when you smiled at me

and when I smiled at you.

Although the guitar

may have been, at some point,

between my hands

and your hands

at once, 

it was never the same feeling

for you and for me.

Nothing.

I got lost in the shadows,

but you were not there.

I fell into the deepest holes

but you were not there either.

You needed help

and I gave my life to be the one

who gave it to you.

You were sad

and I was the only one

who made you smile.

And still, what have you given to me?

Nothing. Not even a kiss

to remain in my memories.

Not even a word

to make me believe it could be true.

Saxophonisits.

This is the story of...

a saxophonist.

And whoever that girl was, standing there in the crowd...
She met him quite late, though they were still young.
He was nice, he was kind, he was clever, he was witty.
But he was a musician. A saxophonist.
And as he seduced her he kept his mind to himself.
As all musicians do. They make you believe in what their music tells you.
But then it comes out it was all just a show.
And you are left there, with your broken-heart.
With no memories to remember, but many lies in a few songs.
He was a saxophonist. And although he was very much like me, he never saw his reflection in me.
And although I was also a musician, he was never impressed by my own show.