T
his st
r e a m o f
tears keep flow
-ing as the rain pours
t h i s peaceful s t r e e t
where I met you. The clock
h a d gone t o twelve a l o t
o f t i m e s , a n d m y
u r g e t o c r y
b e c a m e m y
h a b i t.
I'm
s o
sick with this p a i n that
dwelt i n s i d e my heart,
h o p i n g for a n o t h e r
m i r a c l e- t h a t you'll
come to me again, alive.
If t h a t happens, I' l l b e
able t o s e e your f a c e I
always w a n t e d t o cup
w i t h my h a n d s every
morning. I will b e able to
hear your v oi c e as good
a s t h e song I a l w a y s
listen t o the r ad i o, I will
be a b l e to t o u c h your
h a n d, so w a r m a s t he
s u n b e a m s t h a t
p e e p e d t h r o u g h my
tr an sl ucent w i n d o w .
𝖡𝗎𝗍, 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉,
𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖨'𝗆 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗄𝖾.
𝖠 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖾𝗑𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖾.
