The wind is bitter cold,
As it howls through the trees.
It begs to tell a story that is yet untold,
Of that day which you fell to your knees.

Now I wish I would of told you.
How I wish I had told you how I felt.
And how the twilight turned to morning dew
All of our cards had then been dealt.

The words would not come from my mouth.
I remember how you turned away,
As the birds above were flying south,
I shall never forget that fateful day.

Look at what I've gone and done,
I hope that I'm the only one.