Chills
Chills
On a winter morning
I sit by the window
And blow hot air into my palms
Oh how I wish
I hadn't pulled it out -
My cold and puny hand
Cocooned between the soft palms of your warm hands
Oh how I wish
I hadn't pulled it out.
On a winter morning
I sit by the window
And blow hot air into my palms
Oh how I wish
I hadn't pulled it out -
My cold and puny hand
Cocooned between the soft palms of your warm hands
Oh how I wish
I hadn't pulled it out.