Whenever I snuck out of my own thoughts,
I found this daydream calling me out.
I stumble, I get up; I forget, I remember.
I am holding on to something that is only in my thoughts.
This day, this day of snow in the shine
turns something inside of me blue.
Now I am afraid if it’s too late
to live in harmony with my faults;
decorate them on the branches of my memories like a reward.
And I keep holding on to this day:
A day of snow, a day of shine, a day to maybe remember me by.