I swear I walked into this room in a good mood
With nothing but fondness for you
But now the temperature keeps dropping
Every time I try to talk
And in the awkward silence I can hear
my feet crunching snow
Don't know what I'll get
A gentle breeze or the coming storm
But we don't talk about the weather
Though we're sunk in standing water
I can't seem to shake the feeling we should
Swim in opposite directions
Until our arms and legs give out
We'll wash up in different countries
Take our time make it back
I'll take odd jobs in the village
You'll get work in some cafe
Until we save enough to fly back home
And see each other again
Maybe then we can have a pleasant conversation