You sit there, on the opposite, pretending
That you are deeper then you really are
Making that wistful gaze
Fixing it at some point in such a way as to catch my glance if I throw it at you
However, I know that you are not that deep at all
As your complicated expression may suggest
I know that, inside, you are quite ordinary
And, besides your pretty face, there maybe but little that you can really give
And what that all play with gazes actually means is just indulging ones’ ego
“One's", 'cause I'm playing this game too.