She was brand new, just learning to cry.
Nestled in the nook of my arm she lets out a contented sigh.
I can see you in her, in her tiny little nose, in the color of her eye.
She is yours and she is mine and my love for her passes the sky.
She was your gift to me from on high.
But now I suppose I must watch her die,
Because I can no longer tell truth from lie.

I must wake from this dream.
She isn't in my arms, she's only as real as a sun beam.
And the sadness of my non loss makes me want to scream.
Fighting back tears like swimming upstream.

You gave her to me, through the joining of our mind.
You penetrated deeply into my soul and left our future there to find.
But now I see you've sold it, gone when on the line you signed.
How could you act so quickly, so coldly, so unkind.

My mind is a trap now, unordered and alone.
So I'm working on my show face, a performance I must hone.
But sometimes the pain doubles me over with a moan.
The loss of her, the loss of you chilling to the bone.

My soul wanders back to the cliffs of Dover, where a promise you did make.
The memory of the nest we made there I cannot shake.
Or the gardens at Hever where we made love by a swan filled lake.
My prison I suppose a thirst for love I cannot slake.

My dreams have run afoul.
And deep within, from the pain, comes a growl.
Because I am stuck here on the moon...waiting for a howl.