You stole my heart, you took my dreams
And somewhere in the ground
You buried the very best of me
A relic to be found

But where do I start without a map
Their locale to trace
You left me not a single clue
As to their resting place

Must I trust that some brave pioneer
Will come solve this mystery
Risk the blood and toil no doubt involved
To dare try unearth me.

Well wait I will, but while I do
My bruised heart may just pine
indulge itself with thoughts of you
soak up the tears with wine.

Poor little me a violin please
To accompany my grief
But when I’m done please rescuer
Come restore my belief.