You\'re the song in my head that I cannot forget,
And I sit here alone, needing and wanting...
Feeling as though I may just reach out
And pluck you from the air, and seal the bargain
With the taste of your mouth on my tongue.
Before this, grey was just a colour of blandness;
The epitome of nothing - the nondescript hue,
But now it\'s a raging storm, a misty morning,
The perfect balance, or a silver wolf.
Grey - is now the warmest of colours.