The Titmouse

https://suno.com/s/zfDgk0EFX8aDwGI8
https://suno.com/s/t84W5Vo4JkrTRboB
Verse 1]

Outside, the spring rain softly fell,
You watched the drops upon the pane.
The world was beautiful, as if a spell,
In our snowy, wet February's domain.

You put your little white dress on,
Brushing your hair back, smooth and slow.
Why does everything between us go wrong?
How can I turn back time and make it so?
[solo instrumental]

More and more, in evening's haze,
I dream of that old, overgrown garden.
A titmouse sings in sunlit rays,
And your clear dawn gaze burns, begging pardon.

I regret nothing now, not a thing.
Not what was, not what slipped away.
Just that you were mine, my everything,
Just that you were my warmth, my day.

You are that very same titmouse,
Who pecked grain from my hand last winter.
Why does sleep now refuse my house?
When sorrow splashes like a splinter.

And titmice — they're like firebirds, you see,
But you never know until too late.
Not the sea burns, but summer lightning to me,
And the sound of children has faded of late.

You left — and the house grew still,
Only the light stayed on the wall.
I'm at a new fracture, against my will,
Like a titmouse painted on the wall.

I don't hold you. Fly, since you chose.
I don't blame you. I don't call you back.
You've sung all your titmouse songs, I suppose,
Flew away into a new starry track.