Stopping by window of a lovely lady
Whose life is this, I thought I knew
She looks the same yet old and new;
She does not see me standing here
I want to keep her in my view.
To think of her I shed a tear
Away from her I ought to steer
Between my reason and passion
My thinking isn’t very clear.
She knows my infatuation,
She thinks I’m looking just for fun
Give her freedom, do not keep
The thought of her I cannot shun.
My moods are lovely, dark and deep,
But through my hands she does seep,
I am her with her I sleep,
I am her, with her I sleep.