I hoped you'd come back for me, so I sat down and waited. The air was
blowing cold and people stared as they walked past.
But I sat so still and just waited there for you.

With a focused look you headed towards the corner and I ran like a child
after you.
And I can't remember words that I was saying while you put the night in
picture frames.

You were taking photographs while I hovered by your side.
So you can catch this night on film and I can keep it in my mind.
You were taking photographs of lights and city life, while I just took it
all in by your side.

And the train ride home that night was spent in silence while you held my
hand like we first met.
And it hit me then, that we were both still children—afraid of letting go
the hand we've held.

So I held you close just like your photographs have held on to that night.
And why be adults when it takes a child to forgive throughout this life?
And what matters most is that we're able to believe when all seems lost.
So why be adults?

I hoped you'd come back for me, so I sat down and waited.
The air was blowing cold and people stared as they walked past.
But I sat so still and just waited there for you.