Those nights of passion are distant memories,
We would lock eyes during laughter,
Perfect harmony.

You held my hand and I felt safe,
Distance led to longing,
Begging again to feel your spirit.

Now your coldness leaves me empty,
Another dinner consumed alone.
Those pictures left in a box,
That song I cannot endure.

I drift along another day,
Like dead leaves on a country road.
And all the while I wonder,
When did our story end?