A shaded mountain falls on your skin,
A petal lands softly on your cheeks,
And I feel the stone pressing harder on my heart,
Oh, how I’ll long for your sweet scent,
Oh, how I’ll swim through the oceans of despair,
Oh, how come it is that I have seen but such beauty?
stood in front of me since you’ve gone,
Ah, I see, I see,
It was but your reflection
everlasting like a sparrow’s call.
Pause. And I look to said reflection,
Touch the contours;
your soft skin trembles,
quaint to my touch.
But there’s something there
nothing there.
But, oh, there is.
A quaint little tremble,
A life-stopping earthquake in my heart,
But you see,
But you sing,
But you must,
You must understand
that the shaded mountain
falling on your skin
is but a memory
not even a sparrow’s call.
A feeble little memory
that is soon forgotten,
Bye.
