We hide away not in shame,
But in fear of what might happen,
What might happen if they see,
What might happen if they know what we feel,
What might be if we were free instead of us living like we are trapped in the 1915s.

Instead of me closing windows and locking doors,
Instead of me being afraid to say I am yours,
Please I beg of you to never let go,
In your eyes, I might lose control,
Because it is the lens to your soul,
Hold me close in the shadows,
I will offer those three words as if I wouldn't be disowned if they heard.

Love me like you miss me
Kiss me with hopes of rewriting history
While we hideaway like the 1915s.