In the turn of a rosebud,
In a bright melody, there is a door;
A room for your quiet,
Where only the boards tell the stories from before.
And in a barbed winter, warm portraits are hung.

Oh, let yourself be. Let yourself be.

The final leaf dances
On a bright morning, to the North wind's song.
The only true romance is here;
My only companion when the words have gone.
And do you remember sharing that gold?

Oh, let yourself be. Let yourself be.

I'd make you a letter;
A word for a river, a poem for a boat,
And wait to be draped in our cloak -
Away from the bank and into the smoke.
And when the moon whispers, you'll know that I'm home.

Oh, let yourself be. Let yourself be.