it reminded me how awful things can be
trying to recall your tiny voice
till the fever breaks it's all that I can hear
counting down the numbers of the days
was it the same amount of roses on your grave
finally I brought myself to sing these words
after the snow you can finally see
if you could be the trees I would be your leaves
after she died, we decided to beleive
that her favorite color was probably green
on the day she died, in our hearts we did beleive
that her favorite color was probably green
