as my ink wets the paper another thought of her begins to cry
when a poet pens the words about that beautiful thing called hope
rendered with the heart of any Roman the great who never fell in love
and in sparing the exact amount of lust there is an addiction involved to
taken by a fool, treated like a fool where do the Angels sing above?
a desire which has the strength of a thousand teardrops
when Leonardo da Vinci served up supper to Santa Maria Delle Grazie
he soon fell in love with the eyes and lashes of any Mona Lisa
that in my heart where the river of everlasting always begins
always tucked carefully under my arm with the security of caring
so I look towards the artistic history of all the cravings for a lady
and when I heard Juliet crying I saw Romeo dancing in the sky
a twinkle in the heart where Supreme takes your beautiful reign
then I wrote to Shakespeare and waited for the 500yr reply
he said, \"you\'ll get your money and then they ask why?\"
and I said, \"why did Hamlet have to spoil it all by saying \"to be or not to be\"
when I wished upon a lonely star who had been gazing down at her for me
the sun woke up, strolled into town and told me where to meet her
and as she sat down by the riverside I saw that she saw me too
with a smile which would raise me to sit down and put my arm around her
I kissed her for the very first time when she couldn\'t stop kissing me back
and as my ink wets the paper another thought of her begins to cry.