Billie knew what she was singin' about when she sang,
"You're mean to me, why must you be mean to me?
Dear honey, it seems to me...you love to see me crying"
She knew how it felt, and felt how she knew it...
and I do, too.
Now I sit alone on a dark and cold January night
listening to Billie relive her pain
as I live my pain of you.
The wind blows hard, thrusting a chilling mist
from the rain that steadily descends
alike your love for me.
The rolling thunder then breaks the monotony
telling me and Billie that indeed
''The evening breeze, caressed the trees...tenderly..."
and maybe if Billie and I are lucky,
the breeze will hold us tonight, too.
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