I can not help when I wake up with you on my mind
As if my eyes, had wandered off into the past

I know it’s over, but the more I see
The less I can claim to know

Inside my heart there are footprints
Artifacts of my wandering gypsy soul (sole)

My thoughts conjure up an image of your lips, but
I taste only that in which I miss

Only loneliness lingers on a phantom kiss
Calloused hands made of stone

Carved to reach out, but
No innate strength to hold them closed