Is it the same thing to be swallowing poison, than to hold on to the hope that there is even a little space in your heart left for me.
My dreams often consist of you, my memory keeps showing me pictures of your loving eyes looking at me with such meaning.
We where lost but we've both found our meaning. We've changed but my heart still remains the same.
When I go back to the town where it all began, I visit the spot where we first kissed hoping there would be some sign that you've been there thinking of me too.
Holding on to the never ending poisonous hope.
I wish I could stop but my heart refuses to forget your name.