i could tell you stories that have mystery and ******
the hero solves the crime and gets the girl
he brings order to the world

i could tell you tales of woe with villains of so tragic
you'll watch your back when you think no one's around

stories for you
with a twist of plot and a happy ending too
protagonists and catalysts
and villains who's untimely demises are surely not to be missed
tragedy as shakespeare would have wished

stories for you
with the star-crossed lovers that make you feel brand new
listen to the stories
all for you

all i want is to wake next to you
to feel you body breathe out, breathe in
but waking means sleep which is impossible to do
so i'll keep watch like a sentinel till the day begins
maybe it's the way that the first crack of light
refracts off the facets of the small of your back
and the way your scent mingles with the sheets through the night
subtle pheromones of which there is no lack
i cannot lie restful when i'm with you
but i drink in your beauty like a fine liqueur
and as i watch you dream those dreams you do
i only wish to be part of their unending endure
these sleepless nights are of little concern
for my soul understands what the flesh can't discern

there is a picture that hangs in my mind
a portrait that that has been there for years
it captures the sights i've long left behind
broad strokes painted with sorrow and tears
sometimes it appears as a beast of the night
or a porcelain lady shrouded in black
and though there is no danger or impending fright
there's always an inconspicuous attack
i've tried over and over to shroud this cruel work
to somehow destroy it or hide it away
but it seems always to remain with it's mocking frame
and its colors morose with a hue of dismay
it will probably hang for as long as i live
to ruin what i receive and spoil what i give

time is a cruel mistress with hands never idle
while our minds delve elsewhere she pockets our years
she takes our loved ones unchecked and unbridled
and in return gives us only sorrow and tears
but i do not fear this mistress sly
she cannot rob me of what i own
the soul doesn't perish and love doesn't die
so therefore i'm never really alone
the salarymen strive for capital gains
with a lust for a profit at the end of the quarter
and the mistress is there ******* life from their veins
as their empty lives grow progressively shorter
but the love i know never dies or fades to grey
and no mistress or demon or foul beast of night can ever take it away

she is my muse, she'll sing me to sleep
through the darkest of nights or the brightest of days
kings of the sky or the queens of the deep;
they all pay her courtly praise
when she is sad or her humors are ill
her skies grow dreary and grey
and her garden wilts while her forest lays still
while my sleep goes rotten from decay
oh put me at ease my beautiful muse
i long for the pitch of your siren
to make your world right i would slave all the night
and restore your graces undying
to be next to you would be my only console
because closeness, like slumber, is good for the soul

how do you sleep the long night through
as ill winds navigate the lonely twilit skies?
how do you wake glowing as you do
in spite of the sleep that drips from your eyes?
it's true there's a chill in the morning
with a frost that blankets the earth
but still you slumber without hesitation or warning
so that each time you wake is like a new birth
how do you lay your head to rest
while others lie tormented and ill at ease?
the world wakes groggy but you're at your best
and we muddle through life while you do as you please
how do you sleep, so tender and sweet?
with you i'd lie peaceful and slumber complete