Left over from the winter’s end
It’s almost May and days are wet
Too cold to see you in that dress
I could not stand these winter coats
Bundled up from our toes to throats
All it is is an extra skin
We touch but don’t feel anything
Well if it was me
And I’d have to choose
I would purge the clouds
With sunshine pierced through
We’d shed our old skins
On the hope of growth
I would light the sky
Our real skin would show
I could not stand this springtime wind
Left over from the winter’s end.
