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Description
My heart, it flutters like a dying butterfly
as raindrops wash the shivers off my bones
and time is filled with dreams and ice cream cones
and cherries and goodbyes, and joys I can't deny
If I'm supposed to go I'd rather go at once,
the distinct taste of cherries on my tongue
will wake new tunes and songs we've never sung -
- I'd go while I'm still real and still allowed to dance
It'd be unfair, I know, were I to go as first
and yet I'd wish to end it in my prime,
while vivid tastes of cherry, spice and lime
repress and push aside my deep instinctive thirst
for life