The rain came down in Lyon town,You stood there with a book in hand,I missed my bus but found your smile,The best mistake I've ever planned.Here's to you, my Amelie,Sixteen years of you and me,From that wet bus stop to this home,Where every Sunday, dance is free.The kitchen fills with morning light,You dance before the coffee's made,The kids walk in and join the sway,Our messy, perfect serenade.Here's to you, my Amelie,Sixteen years of you and me,From that wet bus stop to this home,Where every Sunday, dance is free.Lou and Max, they have your eyes,That crooked blue door we never fixed,I'd leave it crooked just to hearYour laugh again, our perfect mix.Here's to you, my Amelie,Sixteen years of you and me,From that wet bus stop to this home,Where every Sunday, dance is free.
every word is yours to keep · With love, always