If you pluck me from my gardens love
And forget to kiss sunshine over my face
I'll leave a sweet smell in the pockets of your thoughts
In the yellow pages of forgetfulness...
You'll find me withered, pressed and lost
If one day you forget
To kiss sunshine over my face
Delicate wreaths of silence will grace
Your heart's grave
Taking my scent to a far off place...
Yesterday...
If you pluck me
And forget to kiss sunshine over my face...
