I've had enough of love's decay, the pricking of its thorns.
I'm ready, now, to walk away, in clothes mangled and torn.
So when he takes me by the hand, then looks me in the eye,
he'll say, "My love, I'm such a fan," and I will say, "Goodbye."
But just as I'm about to leave, I catch a subtle whiff
upon the gentle summer breeze, a sweet scent says "what if?"
What if I stayed within his arms, and felt them hold me tight?
Would I be captured by his charm, and loose myself that night?
My eyes are dry, I cannot cry, I've finally seen his greed.
My broken heart will never die, instead it starts to bleed.
Now wicked winter has arrived, the blizzards ever bolder.
But I will easily survive, his glances were much colder.
So hastily I trample through this freezing world of grey,
until I find a world of blue. 'Til then, I'll run away.