I often wonder,
If you look for me in the crowd,
Flick through our photos,
Listen to our song,
Read my poetry,
Go to our old haunts,
And miss what we never had.
I often wonder,
If you look for me in the crowd,
Flick through our photos,
Listen to our song,
Read my poetry,
Go to our old haunts,
And miss what we never had.
Bohotea 