It was the 17th of June on a cold, wintry evening. A couple walked into a certain French cafe, Laurent at The Causeway.

Dear, there you brought my attention to a huge faint lettering of a French word on the mirror wall in front of us. There, it was written the word A'mour.

S k y e, have I told you that you're some kind of wonderful, beautiful and gorgeous?

You feel so right, dear. Loving you feels so right. There in that restaurant, we relived the memories we once had four and a half months ago, but on that wintry evening, we were creating new memories. One we will hold dearly, close to our hearts.

A'mour

There were lots in that French cafe.

'Cause dear, you were there with me.