I pressed my Hand on this window to hold you,
But nothing moved, except the bus,
In every minute that I told you,
The plans I had, had for us,
It is strange we go through,
When my heart beats on demand,
I pressed my hand on this window to hold you, (but it was to cold to)
Nothing moved except the bus,
In every minute that I told you,
The plans I had, had for us,
My heart beats on demand,
I play treats on demand,
and it seems to be fun,
but my heart beats on demand,
Had we the best time we could have?
Was your face a part of me?
Could I fall in love instead?
Or do I believe what I see?

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