I see you every morning. You look so sad, so fragile, so beautiful, like a lonely butterfly on a snow-laden field. You stare out of the window, like your secret lies hidden in the impenetrable darkness of the tunnel outside. Girl on the subway, please smile to me.
You stare out of the window, like your secret lies hidden in the impenetrable darkness of the tunnel outside.
Girl on the subway, please smile to me.