Missing you second by second...
It's a quite Sunday the same as the quite Friday night.
Your perfume is still in the air....
the world without you is not a happy world. It's not a crowded world. Rather, as cold as Toronto's winter and as deadth as hope in hopeless's hearts.
Without you my love, my heart is a city without any light, no moon in the night, no sun in the day.
Nothing to explore, nothing to be excited about and nothing to enjoy. After all, we learned sharing is the best was of enjoying life.
a life without your touch...without your voice...without your smile..... is not worth living...
It's a quite Sunday the same as the quite Friday night.
Your perfume is still in the air....
the world without you is not a happy world. It's not a crowded world. Rather, as cold as Toronto's winter and as deadth as hope in hopeless's hearts.
Without you my love, my heart is a city without any light, no moon in the night, no sun in the day.
Nothing to explore, nothing to be excited about and nothing to enjoy. After all, we learned sharing is the best was of enjoying life.
a life without your touch...without your voice...without your smile..... is not worth living...