Our lonely path
                 Beneath hollow trees
                           With such dark clouds above
                                              Can we please turn around?
          The lingering of your lips
                                       In the breeze
                                                     Can we please turn around?
                     Your smile makes me cry
                                       The storm is gathering
                                                  The feeling of my skin  
                                 Without your touch is slowly killing me
                                                                 If you grand me one last chance
                                                     One last choice
                                                                   We would turn around
                             Living in our filtered past