| The one who survives by making the lives
|
| Of others worthwhile
|
| She’s coming apart right before my eyes
|
| The one who depends on the services she renders
|
| To those who come knocking
|
| She’s seen too clearly what she can’t be
|
| What understanding defies
|
| She says, «I need not to need
|
| Or else a love with intuition
|
| Someone who reaches out to my weakness
|
| And won’t let go
|
| I need not to need
|
| I’ve always been the tower
|
| But now I feel like I’m the flower
|
| Trying to bloom in snow»
|
| She turns off the light, anticipating night
|
| Falling tenderly around her
|
| And watches the dusk
|
| The words won’t come
|
| She carries the act so convincingly
|
| The fact is sometimes she believes it
|
| That she can be happy the way things are
|
| Be happy with the things she’s done
|
| And yet, I need not to need
|
| Or else a love with intuition
|
| Someone who reaches out to my weakness
|
| And won’t let go
|
| I need not to need
|
| I’ve always been the tower
|
| But now I feel like I’m the flower
|
| Trying to bloom in snow
|
| Reach out, hold back
|
| Where is safety?
|
| Reach out, and hold back
|
| Where is the one who can save me?
|
| Where is the one, the one?
|
| I need not to need
|
| Or else a love with intuition
|
| Someone who reaches out to my weakness
|
| And won’t let go
|
| I need not to need
|
| I’ve always been the tower
|
| But now I feel like I’m the flower
|
| Trying to bloom in snow
|
| I feel like I’m the flower
|
| Trying to bloom in snow
|
| The danger and the power
|
| The friend and the foe |