You can crumple us up,
and throw us away...
There was the one with blue hair,
wasn't there...
Love is not...
Secret meetings in dark places...
Take me far from here,
where the people are cold...
A final gush of frosty air
sweeps you away into the night...
When you are alone one day, I want to be the one you come back to |
And I know it is over, but I cannot bring myself to let go of my own selfish need to be loved. |
The end felt as if he had drug me out into the street on a cold winters' night: dry, aching, silent. And he left me there with no way to call for help. |