Do you feel that something leaves us slowly as we keep on growing up? The ability to tell people what we feel with a sense of wonder that's so hard to capture again, like butterflies in our bare hands.
We just crush them when we try too hard to take back what we have forgotten. Before we say goodbye, I'd like to go once more to the meadow of our youth and talk about things with such a passion, so never ending.
Forget the noise around us. Pretend we are the only ones in the world. I could die a happy boy if you'd only let me know you. Sometimes I wish I could take back all the stupid things I went ahead and said without thinking.
Voiceless statements. Not speaking what's inside. I can't erase them/ All the empty "thank you's", "I love you's". "I hate's". So I look ahead to what I'll say and maybe one day...
before we finally die we could go once more to the meadow of our youth and talk about things with so much passion, so never ending. Forget the noise around us, pretend we are the only ones in the world.
I would die a happy man if you'd let me know you again. Maybe we're scared of being hurt like we've been so many times before, but I can't be sure.
I'll try to speak with my heart, through these words scattered in my brain because I'd rather hav a broken heart than no heart at all.
Encontrou algum erro na letra? Por favor envie uma correção clicando aqui!