Fingers intertwinedEyes locked in mineA beautiful warming smileOnly I could bring that out.We were playing on the couch like kidsBut we were both twenty-one.How could I ever forgetThe sound of your voiceThe color of your eyes?That gets me every time.All those times we could've kissedBut for some reason we never did.With your hand up on my neckYou didn't even press.Just with one-touchYou could really light me up
Trembling I feel this is going wrong,In whispers, your voice calls meBut I don't want to hear it.Will it ever leave my mind?I thought we were on the same pageFeeling like we're different nowDifferent places, different stages.People keep on how a perfect match we areBut truthfully I am not sure anymoreMaybe I'll change my mind, or maybe I won'tThe bottom line seems blurry enough to act on blurry visionOne day it may be clear to keep moving forward.
I wish I could forget itI wish you would forgive meBut every time I see youI just can't unsee it.Every damn fightLike the one in Barcelona.It was all my faultYou know I'm insecureI wish there was a wayFor you to understand.You painted us goldAnd I made us blue.I'm so sorry it didn't workI really wish it did,At least for you and me.
Jolt of market-carts ;Steady drip of horses' hoofs on hard pavement ;A black sky lacquered over with blueness,And the lights of Battersea BridgePricking pale in the dawn.The beautiful hours are passingAnd still you sleep !Tired heart of my joy.Incurved upon your dreams.Will the day come before you have opened to me ?
Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead,Wouldst thou miss any life in losing mine?And would the sun for thee more coldly shineBecause of grave-damps falling round my head?I marvelled, my Beloved, when I readThy thought so in the letter. I am thine—But . . . so much to thee? Can I pour thy wineWhile my hands tremble ? Then my soul, insteadOf dreams of death, resumes life's lower range.Then, love me, Love! look on me—breathe on me!As brighter ladies do not count it strange,For love, to give up acres and degree,I yield the grave for thy sake, and exchangeMy near sweet view of Heaven, for earth with thee!
I pant for the music which is divine,My heart in its thirst is a dying flower;Pour forth the sound like enchanted wine,Loosen the notes in a silver shower;Like a herbless plain, for the gentle rain,I gasp, I faint, till they wake again.Let me drink of the spirit of that sweet sound,More, oh more,--I am thirsting yet;It loosens the serpent which care has boundUpon my heart to stifle it;The dissolving strain, through every vein,Passes into my heart and brain.As the scent of a violet withered up,Which grew by the brink of a silver lake,When the hot noon has drained its dewy cup,And mist there was none its thirst to slake--