Ben:
Is it that bad?
Ami:
No, it's lovely. It's just…
Ben:
I painted it from memory - well, of course I did, you weren't actually here - but now I look at it, you're different.
Maybe it's just because you've got your hair up. I don't know...
Ami:
Every line
Every stroke, every shade,
Every curve...
It's as if I'm staring at a photograph
Almost like he had a camera on the hill
Three years ago
Our hill...
Three years...
Though he may not remember this picture paints a window to the way we were,
How once we were.
Is this the way back in?
Back to what could have been?
Letting the truth begin this time.
Ben?
Ben:
Yeah?
Ami:
There's something I've been wanting to tell you...
Ben:
Oww! Sorry.
Ami:
My god, what's the matter?
Ben:
It's nothing... Just a - ****! - these last few days, I've been getting these headaches.
Ami:
Like after the accident?
Ami:
Ben:
Not that bad, no.
Why didn't you tell me?
Ben:
Honestly, it's just a twinge.
Ami:
It looks like more than a twinge! Are you all right?
Ben:
Agh!
Ami:
That's it, I'm calling your doctor.
Ben:
It's all right, I'll do it.
Ami:
How can I tell him who I am
When, if I do, the pain will grow
Until the pain can never go
So can I really risk it all?
Are there some lines we shouldn't cross?
Where is the balance between truth and loss?
Take it slow, Ami.
Take it slow.
But this picture
Of that late afternoon
As the sun started setting
And there was nothing but you.
Nothing but me happy...
In our place
Secret and unknown
Somewhere only we would go.
Lost in love,
Sharing dreams.
We had never felt so free...