The wind blows the hair from your facewhile you're waitingby this fortunately July, sunny dayI see from the look in your eyes that you're worried,will he come todayYou won't be here tomorrow morning, but you said that yesterday as well,I'd better see you here all summer,waiting for the one who went awayYou wear a dress, it's the one you've been wearing,cause that's the one, that he said he liked.And maybe tomorrow he'll be returning, and all will be allrightYou won't be here...