Hi pretty dear, autumn's walking in. And the grass in the field is dry. Flowers like you love anew every year, there's no time to call you mine. I'm a weed and no you won't believe it. Ain't it grand how love is blind? So, let the snow close your eyes for the night and think of dandelion. Oh how I wish I could hold you near, feeling our stems entwined. But I feel the breeze of the wind in the trees and I know that it means good-bye. See me bleeding, do you have to see me like this? Why must you watch me cry? Just let the snow close your pretty eyes. And think of your dandelion...