Old Shoes
Sean Rowe
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
Though 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, make you understand?
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, make you understand?
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