When the mourning moon will outshine the distant sun,
When there are many trespassers, yet keepers none,
When nights will be unguarded and days disguised,
When society is strange and solitude prized.
When you want to die before your time has come,
When you’ve loved a few, and hated some,
You’ve been tried and tested, defeated by none,
You are the blazing, raging, dying sun!
And you must shine brighter,
Brighter than ever!
I need to be reminded,
That you are still there.
My moon’s too pretty,
And my love undone.
I never thought I’d be,
More than one.
Stay lit awhile,
Till the evening descends,
I’ll only look for you,
When the day ends.
I am icy inside,
And I prefer the cold.
You’ll never know why,
Our story never sold.
So when the frosted pines played the tune of our soul,
I remembered us, and how we grew old.
Youth sailed in pleasures, age hardened the spine,
I lived in your thoughts, and you lived in mine.