I'd rather die than become strangers, my love.

I'm terrified of losing you.

Since when did passion and wild-eyed lust

become reduced to \"keeping in touch\"?

And how did friendship and love that was new

become reduced to \"thinking of you\"?

I'd rather die than become strangers, my love.

I'm terrified of losing you.

Since when did secrets and desperate needs

become reduced to \"warm memories\"?

And how did promises, plans for our lives,

become reduced by the passage of time?

I'd rather die than become strangers, my love.

I'm terrified of losing you.

I'd rather die than become strangers, my love.

I'm terrified of losing you.

How could you let this be

with all that we've been through?

Do you remember me?

Do I remember you?

How could you let this be

with all that we've been through?

Do you remember me?

Well, yes, of course, I do.

I do. I do.