I see her face highlighted by the dawn.
She is bright for a moment, then it's gone.
As she turns, she swears nothing is wrong
But I see the tears about to fall
So I sit by the phone waiting for her call
I guess she'll never know what she is to me
but to her I'll never be unseen
She started as a dream,
and now she is infront of me
She is not what she seems
Even after the last page
She's the mystery that remains intriguing
So I sit by the phone waiting for her call
Now I am at our favorite bar
She'll never know what she is to me
but to her I'll never be unseen.
Now she'll get lost take another hit
Feel like she won't be missed
Maybe she'll get lost in his kiss
Still here I sit.
She is waiting for the fall
and I am waiting for her call
She'll never believe what she is to me
but to her I'll never be unseen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem