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Montreal is where i began to feel
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inside the grey sadness of winter.
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You told me that this isn't it,
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and i drove away.
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Walking to the statue in the park,
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Through snow drifts up over our knees,
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And every street sign written in French.
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We sat by the statue, you looked in my eyes,
https://www.coveralia.com/acordes/montreal-of-montreal.php
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Then said, 'I'm so sorry.'
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Later, laying on your bed,
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wondering what's going wrong.
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Every time I'd ask you'd start crying
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and whisper, "I don't know why,
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I only know what i feel, what a voice says to me."
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I may be here now, but I've never left Montreal.