Seasons And Reasons

v.

           we picked up a shell
           and you comb it
           on my hair for you
           say it was your joy.
          
           we picked up stones
           and throw it on the
           surface of the sea
           for you say it was
           your hobby when you
           were a boy.
          
           but you never pick
           me up the moment
           i surrender on the
           depth of your love
           for you say it wasn't
           your fault.
  
—you, loving me was an assault.