When spring has come buy me forget-me-nots and wonder which side of the bed I sleep on now.
But for tonight, let the windows freeze shut and we’ll stay inside. In your arms or on the floor I shall play- that our winters are endless
and hide my shivers while I undress.
Lie to me that it is your fever and not the Spring that makes the icicles melt.
![](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/e479bd_f74f212fc3f44f669ccd4cc88c1f7f95~mv2.jpeg/v1/fill/w_980,h_1307,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_auto/e479bd_f74f212fc3f44f669ccd4cc88c1f7f95~mv2.jpeg)
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