Lyrics:

As pretty as a song

A song could ever be

Like Christmas on a river

Without a boat or Christmas tree

This afternoon with you was something like a letter

The kind that someone writes but never sends

And when you look at me like that

I know someday it's gonna end

And when you get old

I bet you miss your friends



As angry as a breeze

Tugging hard upon the sails

I been moving through these streets forever

From Baltimore to Amsterdam

These things inside me they repeat like broken records

Spinning pretty somethings behind my eyes

And when I can´t look at you

I can paint you picture perfectly in my mind

And when I get old

I´m gonna miss you all the time



That wind up in the trees

scattering bluebirds all over the place

shuffeling children in the piles of leaves

I wish I was the wind that touched your face

This afternoon with you was something like a letter

The kind that someone writes but never sends

And when you´re good to me

It makes me blue because some day it´s gonna end

And when we pass on

I bet you miss your friends

I bet you miss your friends

I bet you miss your friends