Its funny how when it's cold outside,

I start to remember burying my face inside of your jacket,

I can small all of the fall and winter leaves,

That were beneath your feet,

While the faint smell of your Marlboros lingered on and on,

I could almost touch your face in the cold sun,

I could almost feel myself being in love,

But the flowers, the trees, and the bees have died and grown again since then