Na minha boca tem esse sabor cítrico

"Measuring a summer's day, I only finds it slips away to grey,
The hours, they bring me pain.

Tangerine, Tangerine, Living reflection from a dream;
I was her love, she was my queen, And now a thousand years between.

Thinking how it used to be, Does she still remember times like these?
To think of us again? And I do."

I do.