Though my shoes are not for winter
Though my hands are very cold
Though my pockets may be empty
I intend to find you on my own

Though the music has been fading
Though the cellos have gone home
The piano has been waiting
For some lonely man
To play a note

I wrap my arm around your side
Put your hand where you can feel me
In this moment we’re alive
In this moment we can die free
How can I make you understand

More lyrics from Sean Rowe