Why do you keep saying those words? That we won't see each other tomorrow.
Why do I know that this a dream, but keep holding on?
You walk away without a trace and I follow the footprints that never existed.
I follow a voice that has long faded, and I watch the world with my eyes close.
You're gone like the drifting snow, clearing away the tangible warmth,
gone like the dancing waves, quickly becoming ice as the wind blows.
Why do you keep saying those words? That we won't each other tomorrow?