I think I care about what you think,
and when your disappointed in me -
it kills me. Slowly without any warning,
pieces of my soul are ashes.
They turn to dust, when you tell me
you hate me. I can't control that, so
I just smile - learn not to dwell, and I'm okay.
I'll always be okay.

Even when your not here, even when you
disappear. Make me worry, make me cry-
it doesn't matter, don't ask me why. I can't
explain this love I have, this random adoration-
I can't abort it.
I fell in love with you, I fell hopelessly for you...
I was fifteen years old. I didn't know what it felt like-
to be held.

"Humor me," you whispered. And I did, I don't know
why - but I did. I followed you around like a lost puppy
dog, because you were my sun. The only one. The only one.
I could not control it then, and I cannot control it now. I want
to love you, in person, hold you kiss you - shot to the world that
you are mine! But shame, shame rushes through our veins.

What would our parents say?
Would they lock us away, would they make you join the war?
Tell me that you were drafted, because that's happened before.
Fear locks inside me, so I keep my mouth shut.
You date that beautiful maiden, and then another-court one girl
for marriage, and then get dumped for a boy whose in the army.
It broke your heart.

You wrote me letters expressing your sorrows, and I cried-
I cried, and I cried for you. I hated the fact that I couldn't comfort
you...the fact that this heartbreak, had sent you in to fight those
(nazi bastards!) but I fear that this will be my last letter,
from you my dear. I beg you not to go into battle, I plead with your
parents to make you stay.
But they don't listen, and you don't care.
It's Christmas, remember - you promised you'd be home by now.
But instead.
You lie on a battle field, rotting on the ground.
Dead. Dead. Dead.

My heart broke in two, they married me off to some scholar of sorts.
But I'd always be in love with the boy,
who died trying.
Trying to please the girl with the beautiful eyes,
(who was far past marriage, she had three children now..)
Without any smokes in his pocket, and a ocean breeze scent on his skin-
the one who I kissed that first summer.