Slide the paper into my hand like you do your fingers,
Let me know why you cry at night.
I long to know who you cry for,
Because I cry at knowing who you long for.
If you send it to me like a paper airplane,
It's Nine-Eleven.
My heart is the twin towers.
Come with me, though, you'll go to heaven.
Because there we'll be able to forget the pain,
You'll kiss me on the cheek
And I'll return to you a dandelion.