Even as the snow is falling. Dark December nights are calling. Memories of early warning signs. Like a whisper in the mind. I put my brave face on. Robbed of the love I owned. It's the end of the affair. We are not who we once were. Hard to be open when all facts are in. Hard to write endings before we begin. It's the end of the affair. And it seems we no longer care. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Well I was fond but now I'm harder. So here we are in somber silence. With no one else but us to blame. Hard to be honest when others pretend. Hard to begin when we already know the end. It's the end of the affair. And it seems we no longer care