Your snowflake sense takes over
You still can't let go of this pullover

Winter, my dear, your coldness do not ceases
petrified each time that my glance moves towards you
Are you always this insensible, dear mine?
Or is it just to catch up my attention

as the flowers that aren't born on your lips
You will not flower your way into my heart again

Enviable guts you must have
to play summer while
frivolous voices consume you inside