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I stole your pencils and I made a posy for you And with the flowers I made a hat that you You said me goodbye with I stole your goodbyes and I built a door I can open only with your pencils But your pencils have drawn too much And they don't want think about me Don't want think about me And here I am under a rubber pressure Something's removing me Or I'm just out of your margin? Out of your margin. I stole your paper and I folded slowly Building a little house where I can hide myself And so you tooke your pencils And you drew a windstorm that swept my house away Please explain to me Was I in the wrong page or in the wrong line? Then delete my outline with your favorite rubber. And here I am under a rubber pressure Something's removing me Or I'm just out of your margin? Out of your margin. (Grazie a Alessandro Bovo per questo testo) From Letras Mania