I want to write you a love song,
But I fear I could not find the beat,
nor the melody,
or the rhythm,
or even the rhyme.

I have the words,
Or words intended,
If I knew what to say,
That would be splendid.

But here I sit,
Lonesome and gray.
I've run out of wit,
Gone by another day.

And I'll try to piece this song together,
But I know I will fail.
Because there is no proper way to write love,
And if I could not say the words out loud,
Then should I look for them above?

When the truth is,
Words cannot describe
How perfect you are,
How you saved my life.

I know I can try,
And try I might,
But this song isn't coming,
At least not tonight.