If all those who knew her should write something about her.
This side is different, this other side is done.
You can't quite repeat it.
Teach me I'm listening.
Learn without thinking.
Oh, should I know what it is about you?
Should all those who knew her speak to me clearly,
slow and sincerely,
oh, what I'd learn.
But you can't quite repeat it.
Teach me I'm listening.
Learn without thinking.
Oh, should I know what it is about you?
So you move on to another, and you've left them to hang on your wall.
And she still remembers,
and she'd like to forgive you on her own.
But we can...