It's so cold out there,
the middle of December
the water is boiling
and I'm waiting...
and then the sweet sound of water
pouring slowly through the filter,
and the milk is slightly steaming
while the cinnamon is waiting...
I'm craving for a cup...
There's no sun reflecting
on this icy window ledge
and the smell of winter is melting
with these kitchen scents of no age...
and then the sweet sound of water
pouring slowly through the filter,
and the milk is slightly steaming
while the cinnamon is waiting...
I need to be warmed...
And your famous brown cappuccino
is almost ready to be drunk... home...
as I open the door and say "hello"
there's no one at home
and then the sweet sound of water
pouring slowly through the filter,
and the milk is slightly steaming
while the cinnamon is waiting...
I forgot that you left...
This warm cup of cappuccino
is all that I have left from you.
Its sweet smell brings hurting memories of you
I miss you little chesnut cappuccino girl...
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