"I'm obsessed with the idea of waking up in your arms;

What assurance,
Do we have,
That each time we fall asleep,
We'd still wake up?
Every night could be our last,
And when I wake up,
With the warmth of your breath,
Gently brushing my neck,
What a feeling it would be knowing,
That the night before could have been our last,
Yet we chose to spend it,
Wrapped up in each other's arms."