I had no intention of jumping into the lake
Anyway it was winter
And I had just left the warmth of your bed
Ok, I had left it for the last time
So I was a little despondent
But me, jump in the lake, no, never
Of course I was sore
That you had asked me to leave
Yet, for the very first time
I saw the frost, in the hollow
On the fifth green of the golf course
But me, too sore, no, never
What is the point of continuing
If you have already made the point
But I will continue
I will reinforce the hurt, and the heartache
Of leaving you, in your warm bed
To think, what is the point of continuing
