If winter ends
I'll lead you gently by the hand.
Out to a field of comatose flowers,
Soft snow melting with each corresponding step.
And when that first ray of sunshine hits
your porcelain face,
I'll know my choice was sound.
And if winter ends
We will sing silently to songs with no words.
We'll dance to songs not heard on any radio.
And if winter ends
I'll buy you that ring.
The one from the supermarket quarter machine.
Things only seen in childhood dreams,
I'll make it yours.
I'll make it mine.
I'll make it ours.
If winter ends.
May 11, 2010
May 11, 2010 at 5:42 PM UTC
If winter ends
I'll lead you gently by the hand.
Out to a field of comatose flowers,
Soft snow melting with each corresponding step.
And when that first ray of sunshine hits
your porcelain face,
I'll know my choice was sound.
And if winter ends
We will sing silently to songs with no words.
We'll dance to songs not heard on any radio.
And if winter ends
I'll buy you that ring.
The one from the supermarket quarter machine.
Things only seen in childhood dreams,
I'll make it yours.
I'll make it mine.
I'll make it ours.
If winter ends.
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