Your footprints forgotten,
They left a trail.
I ran and I chased them,
But I met a dead end.
So where's my next turning?
My shadowed sweatheart.
The thunder is looming,
But we're still apart.
I smell the good fortune,
With the present you gave me.
A crumpled note on the pavement
Is likely to save me.
I head for the café,
With storm clouds chasing.
I look through the window,
But something is missing.