I'm not thinking too much anymore. About what's going on, about what you're thinking, what you're doing, what you're not doing.

Maybe you're tired about me. Maybe I'm not the one for you. And I really don't wanna care about it anymore.

I have just one expectation everyday, you.

Expectation that you'll call me at daybreak and say: "I just needed to hear your voice." Or the expectation that you make a surprise, coming to my house without telling me anything.

Or maybe give me one flower.

But that's just expectations.