Why would I ever, ever let you go?

midnight rain still smells like your cologne,

every drop rewinds your last goodbye;

I trace the glass, pretending it’s your hand—

colder than the promise in your eyes.

If love’s a song, I’m stuck on your refrain,

needle carving heartbreak in the vinyl night.

Tell me why would I ever breathe again

when every breath just sounds like your name?

Why would I ever, ever let you go?

當(dāng)你低聲喚我名字，夜就軟成水；

我把心跳折成紙鶴，放進(jìn)你口袋，

怕它太吵，驚醒你的夢(mèng)。

星光落在睫毛上，我偷吻你的沉默，

像偷一句永恒。

若你回頭，

我仍站在原處，

把整片海寫(xiě)成“stay”。