i feel like a music box, only coming alive to your touch, when you go away, so do i, to a place in my mind, where it's cold and dark, but there you are again, with your golden fingers, lighting me up, and bringing the song to my lips, letting me live.
What if it is not what I imagined What if the cold breeze is harsh on me What if I couldn't find my warmth then What if I feel lonely, even though I wish to be alone What if that dream stays as a dream What if I fail to love the moment But what if, What if all my "what-if's" are wrong