Good evening, cold wind, please
be my messenger tonight and tell me
how he has been. While you’re passing by
this empty terrace of mine tell me was it me?
Was it me that wasn’t good enough to fulfill
his needs? Is she doing a better job than I ever will?
Is he proud to walk with her down the street and do
the things he has never done with me?
Is it stupid and naïve to whisper in my sleep
the words he used to whisper in my ear?
After everything I just want to see him smile
even though I’m not the reason why.
Good evening, cold wind, please be my
messenger tonight and tell her he likes it when
someone caresses his forearm. Let her know
how he loves to be surprised with a sudden hug.
Tell the one that’s in my place now I’ve given up
the fight. Oh, cold wind, convey this message to her;
tell her to make him smile because I would die
if I saw him cry.