I chanced to hear you in my youth,
through songs and mystic fairytales,
with promises of happiness,
and perfect love that never fails.

When hints of love began to stir,
within this youthful heart of mine,
you cast your spell upon my soul,
and I like others fell in line.

But this heart became your plaything,
love rejecting yet again.
Never seeing I was but a fool,
when dealing with the world of men.

Now, filled with a host of cracks and scars,
I find this heart of mine has died,
and when I hear your tune begin,
I hold onto my heart and hide.

Oh, so bitter disenchanted love,
mocking me throughout the years,
I turn my back to you again,
and sit alone within my fears.