1997. One Sunday afternoon. She was skating. Her hands were cold, even though she was wearing wollen gloves.
The song was playing.
He came around behind her, overtaking her in an instant. Suddenly, he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him.
She blushed and pulled away her hand.
He was a boy. Like a cyclone, he came but disappeared quickly in her life. All that was left was memories of those Sunday afternoons spent at the rink. And of course, the song.
Sometimes, she wondered, what happened to the boy? What would have happened if she did not pull her hand away? Then again, she'll never know.
To the boy I used to know from a very long time ago.
I wish you well.
I wish you hope.
But most of all, I wish you love.
Am i all alone in this universe?
There's no love on these streets.
I've given mine away to a world that didn't want it anyway.
There's no love on these streets.
I've given mine away to a world that didn't want it anyway.

