When my hands get this cold,
I remember how you would rub them between yours and blow your warm breath on them to get the slightest sense of heat,
In that very moment id think about how they way you kept my hands warm made me love you,
When I was nervous,
I'd fight with my hands to stop shaking and stirring like a ride at that theme park you took me last summer,
When I got nervous you just took hold of them and sometimes pulled me into your chest to bring me back,
Out of my nervous state,
And sometimes you'd put your hand on my thigh and look at me and mouth "I love you"
Our hands didn't fit,
It wasn't as easy as when Cinderella put on her glass slipper,
And maybe that's why you aren't holding my hands anymore,
Yours were so big and mine were so small it was forced and maybe so was our love,
Maybe that's why you're holding her hands,
Maybe it just so happens your hands fit perfectly,
Meant to be,
Whenever my hands get this cold,
I wonder where you are,
But then it takes me a minute to get back into reality,
You're somewhere,
Blowing on her hands,
Because her hands got this cold.