But, what, so I can sing love so poetic?
And with my song I can claim a voice prothetic?
And then for making somehow from aching be exempt?
What, so I can see a glow? A glimmer?
And feast on fruits of all the singers,
But not be stung by yearning stingers?
So supposedly I'm strong,
And I cultivate on luscious lawn.
But my crops can fail, I can also be wrong.
I can woo a distant beauty,
But hopeless missing also rules me,
There's no invincible disguise that lasts all day.
Painful storms will always come to blur my way
And conversely the blurry storms will go their way.
There's no invincible disguise that lasts all day.
(The act is sweet but it casts a shadow just the same)