I long for the heart of a special boy,
Whose company and laughter I most enjoy.
Every word, every sound, every movement of his lips,
Has me hanging on the edge of the cliff.
To wait or to not, I no longer know,
For his heart’s whereabouts the winds cannot blow,
Into my direction where I’ve been waiting still,
For the last four years and now I’m growing ill.
From waiting and waiting and trying to catch,
His difficult heart that mine could never match.
But now it seems as if my chances are gone,
For another girl has swept him, I believe it is done.
