I need to fill up my eyes with your smile I need to take this cold skin I am wearing and turn it into something you would wanna touch one day.
I'm holding to your memory Like an old lady holding to a bag where she keeps the scraps of a lonesome life— A photograph, a book and some keys not opening any door. Not anymore.
I remember the talks we used to have late at night When you were asking me Who or what I am And I've never been able to give you an answear you'd like. Never found it.
And now you don't ask me anymore And it's late for anything I say and the spring is showing her beauty in the air while I am sitting here with my heart sinking in solitude. And the wind is blowing, is bringing sadness in these eyes of mine while the blossoms are flying up to the sky.
And for the first time in my life I have an answer:
I am the girl with blossoms in her hair and winter in the eyes