“They say when you are missing someone that they are probably feeling the same, but I don't think it's possible for you to miss me as much as I'm missing you right now”
SHE is neither pink nor pale, And she never will be all mine; She learned her hands in a fairy-tale, And her mouth on a valentine. She has more hair than she needs; In the sun ’tis a woe to me! And her voice is a string of colored beads, Or steps leading into the sea. She loves me all that she can, And her ways to my ways resign; But she was not made for any man, And she never will be all mine.
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“They say when you are missing someone that they are probably feeling the same, but I don't think it's possible for you to miss me as much as I'm missing you right now”
“After all, my erstwhile dear, My no longer cherished, Need we say it was not love, Just because it perished?”
“After all, my erstwhile dear, My no longer cherished, Need we say it was not love, Just because it perished?”
“I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year.”
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