Everytime I Ride My Bike

Every time you say

There will be a change

I'll be counting til ten

Until it strikes again

Your blood wrote melodies

Formed patterns

Like bright red leaves

The pavements grey ash

Stained your face with dust

I am holding on to you

Every time I ride my bike

Past the corner

Where you fell that day

There is this growing feeling

My head is pounding of shame

People are rushing by

To busy to realise

That there are still

Flowers on the ground

And several notes of goodbye

I'm holding on to you