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