It was a cold sunday in the winter.
You have left shutting the door behind you.
It was a cold sunday in the winter.
Now I have nothing here.
I wish I have given my heart to the gently blowing wind instead of you.
I wish I have given my heart to the flooding water instead of you
I turned pale and quince* is cross
There is a freshly dug grave in me
I turned pale and quince is cross
Snow has covered my flower.