She calls me and her tears echo through the cold chill air
Let me never feel that way.
And I dimly feel all the sensations she feels, and I am a walking shadow.
It goes to show how much we can give up in less than a lifetime.

Doubt blows through me with the last of Febuary wind.
She is colder than it now.
And what if, what if, he can't change his mind.
Should it have never been?
What she wants is not as important now.
Because maybe she can shine, much brighter now the box has burned.
She was happy in the box, but alone.
I can see she has died a little.
There's nothing I can do, saw it comming.
Let me never feel that way.