Waiting until the ice will break between us,
But I surely know that’ll never happen
Old jeans always discolour,
I know they will never have that colour, like they had before when those jeans were brand-new.
Mistakes, faults, accidents,
they will always stay into the back of our minds.
Our lives are like Scotch On The Rocks:
You’ll like her unique taste,
Or you’d rather hestitate to try,
You refuse to drink.