Who is She that has me feeling the way that I do? Who am I to question why a beauty exists so honest and true?
That essence is back, from before my heart was black, of when I was a youth.  

What is it though that compels me so to treat Her the way that I do? What is it now that always somehow strangles me til I'm blue?
A clogging vein, but a slight refrain of the days when everything felt new.

Where Her beauty lies, somewhere in my mind I take it to be fact. Where am I when I react and my self-control has snapped?
The sound of her voice, a wonderful choice for those who remain intact.

Why is Her priceless beauty deceiving? Why am I the one believing that it's all that I can afford?
That unopened door? It seems ajar... But I wonder: what is the quickest way to Her heart?

When Her beauty lies and where the lovers fail is how we came to be. How we are and what we chose still confuses me. But who are they to ask us why, just leave these lovers free.

How is it so that the stars still glow when the sky has fallen apart? How can I dream a big enough dream for both you and me? The regret it seems has flooded the dreams that we used to share. But here at Her grave I must be brave looking into her closed eyes. For this is where it all began, and where Her beauty lies.