If I could ask her a single thing. It would be, “How do you make me feel so pure, like I am seen?” Her heart stretched as far as one could see, Hard to pass her up, it was me.
Mild spring days, is what we were, Mustn’t we forget, he was what you preferred. Your love for him would never break. No matter how hard you tried [bad word] away.
As hard as I tried I could never break, Her love for him, it was bound with time. The waiting game, I was losing, don’t you see? Your love for him, it was bound with time.
Was it fun holding close to what you felt was home? With a season’s change you’d lost all you had known. Was it fun holding close to what you felt was home? With a season’s change I no longer felt alone.
The weather always tells the [bad word]  April knows much more than me and you.