The unexpected ending rushed past me in flashing lights
Leaving behind the tangled red thread of fate
The scattered memories were like a trap trying to lure me in
But from the beckoning scars I knew I couldn't return
I balanced happiness against unhappiness
The answer leaned in the direction of the ring I'd taken off
"May I cry now?"
Ending with a rethorical question
our love was like sand slipping through our fingers
One Sunday in February, the burns on my chest is still painful
Spring is near, I lift my face to the sky and close my eyes
I walk alone down this street i know so well
And the gentleness of the wind brings tears to my eyes
I couldn't see feelings, the words were far sadder
I understood that it was impossible for tears to dry up
As I wish for the blossoming season to come I softly listen
Until the day when spring comes and my scars turn to memories
The landscape that held you and our two shadows has disappeared
The brightly coloured streets tells us that winter has come to an end
One Sunday in February, I say goodbye to you
I looked into the clear blue sky and smiled a little