Whistle

I threw a penny in a wishing well
with a wish to bring you near
looking down in the deep
wishing you where here

I was holding a clover in my hand
Can't remember if it were three or four
you've got no eyes in your back
So I ran off looking for more

I stole the shoes of a horse
hoping those footsteps made you return to me
but it got wild and angry
now because of those shoes I cannot see

I ran through thirteen forests
across meadows, mountains and seas
Even though storms used to pass
I cannot feel a single breeze
Still searching,
hoping to find the luck I used to own
Cause ever since I learned your name
I hate it to be alone.