Let you be the first thing I behold
On days, the morning sun feels worthless,
On days, the lusty sky seems dusty gray,
On days, the summer wind makes the trees look pale.
And on days, the bags under my eyes mourn life itself,
And on days, the screaming kid next door wakes me,
And on days, the things that I screwed up make me regret.
But I earnestly wish that you be the first thing I behold,
On beautiful sunless noons, when the clouds sing as a choir,
So I could tell you that you look lovely;
And on mid-winter mornings, when gusty wind stops to see the silent grass-blades holding timid dewdrops,
So I could tell you that you look lovely;
And on nights when the drowsy sky stands embroidered with the cosmic jewelry,
So I could tell you that you look lovely.
Let you be the first thing I behold,
So I could tell you that you look lovely,
Each and every day, 'Till death do us part'.