I want to lie with you in bed until sunrise;

Taste your lips full and red like an apple;

Make up stories where we pretend

that you're not leaving tomorrow

that this is real

that I'm not pretending.

We can imagine

that the flowers don't wilt in the winter;

tears don't freeze on my cheeks.

and happily ever after isn't a fairy-tale

made up by demons

to keep us dreaming.