If I were a tumbleweed,
I think I'd like for you to be the wind.
I wouldn't mind if maybe,
You'd just take me, and I could see
the world upon your whim.

But, I'm not a tumbleweed...
I like to think I'm wild as the jungle.
And you, Oh, precious you,
would never dare to cage me,
But tangle with me -
Bloom and over-grow.
Then together, we'd be rapturous and elusive.

I know, I know,
My disposition's fickle, love.
But you've got my heart beating
to your song.
I'm still a bird,
Whose only love is melody -
And my wings are growing weary;
I think I'd like to rest upon
your branches.