Too late to reach his parents,
too lonely to tell a friend,
too early to share with a partner
the fear of this child, lost in snow.
Keeping this pain over years,
growing and trav'ling inside.
If you show concern,
he'd be ashamed,
ashamed that he's feeling so childish.
He fights the comfort he needs so much.
A flower in spring,
when snow has turned to melting tides
flowing over land.
He's shiv'ring in winter's cold breeze,
but seasons change.
Now you see sweet blossoms
when you look into his eyes,
He's the man you met in the café by the park.
You looked in his eyes, they seemed very young.
You recently talked to him and almost could read
a question mark in his heart,
One night in September, you met him again
then you lay awake all night.
Once you felt desire to have the man
with the child in his eyes.
You took his hand
late in October.
And on that cloudy day
a storm grew
and you became all seasons together.
Copyright by Stefan Scharring
(Words, Music, Picture)