My Wish List

Let it snow
Let it fall
Wrap yourself in a bow
And give me a call

Why not?
I don't want the moon
Yet it means a lot
to hear your soft croon

I just want to hear you
We know you could've surrender
Did you end up stinking like glue?
Please, be your own sender

Voice out to me
Any way you see fit
Did you ignore the repeated plea?
Or did you believe me? Even just a little bit.

Please tell me you are sent
That you're thraveling through the mist
Be my present.
You're the only thing on my list

Kimberly Piet © 2008