And suddenly,
All the love songs were about her.
The sweet, the sour, the hot and the bitter,
The heavenly fragrance of the flowers.
The sun-kissed dawns and moonlit nights,
The angelic rainbow in the light.

And life like that was frankly perfect,
By each passing day.
He'd make treats for the new friend of his,
Hoping she'd look his way.
And he wanted it to last forever,
There's not much else to say.

And the earth kept on rolling,
The river continued to flow.
And the wind never stopped blowing,
Like life hasn't changed at all.

For what changed wasn't the weather,
Nor was it the sky.
Oh, what changed was no other,
Than what was of his delight.

And life became monotonous,
Each day felt the same.
He'd still make those few sweets,
But now to different intent.

And suddenly.
All the love songs were about her.
The grim, the harsh, the bleak and the bitter,
Heavy clouds bury the sun.
The deathly silence of the winter,
Flowers rot with colors long gone.

Unaccompanied nights of December,
Pondering as the furnace burns.
Freezing wind with his tea of ginger,
The cinder fails to keep him warm.
And once again they are all strangers,
Main characters in his favourite song.

And suddenly,
All the love songs,
Were about her.