"We're going home now."
He said.
Holding my hand
Like a fragile glass.
He sang my favorite song
I laughed 'cause his voice is so funny
Everything stopped
When he sang it seriously.
Butterflies in my stomach
Who could say I can feel that?
Calm whenever he's near
I wish he can just stay here.
Now, he's home
Holding her hand
Like a fragile glass
In the midst of storm.
You know what hurts?
He's singing my favorite song
Looking at her seriously
Not minding everything else he sees.
Butterflies are dead
Emotions cannot feel
But I'm breaking down inside
I wish I never met someone like him.
