Waiting up, buttercup,
Waiting for the sun to come up
And greet the day anew,
With blazing light that grows and grew
Back then when the earth was young,
Before words were inked or songs were sung.

Laying down, sweet girl,
Laying down to watch those hairs curl
Around my fingers, soft and smooth,
With lips to calm and words to soothe
What pain is bottled up in that head of yours,
That mind too young to fight such wars.