The girl cries, and she cries,The flower of her heartHas died in this winter seasonBecause her lover, who lived in this flowerAnd cared for it, and loved it,Has gone without a word.And he left her only the thorns for company.What cruelty, what ironyThat the girl who never cared at all beforeHas only the wounds in her heart to console herHas only her pillow to wipe her tearsWhen all she wants in this worldIs the boy who first discovered That she really could love.

A windswept night calls your name,
Dares you to play my midnight game.
So I offer you this one escape:
What danger will you find to make?

Freedom follows when you flee;
Will you come and follow me?
Shall you do it, or will you run?
Will you abandon all my fun?

Moonlight, starshine, wishes made,
Will you let your shadow fade?
Cross the distance, enter night,
Do you see the distant light?

Do you wander? Across the sky?
Away to where the stars can fly?
Do you like it? Do you know
How to light those stars aglow?

You can’t take His side and take me,
You won’t be able to cross the line.
What to choose: His side or ours?
Will you watch this clash of powers?

A windswept night calls your name,
Dares you to play my midnight game.
So I offer you this one escape:
What danger will you find to make?

You can’t have her eyes
because they still look for me
in the darkest of nights
when you hold her tight
she still feels me breathe
because your breathing is obsolete
and doesn't mean much
in the grand scheme of things.

You can't have her strength
because I gave that to her
you can't have her breath
because I took that away
but you can always have her body
that has become an empty shell
because she is not there
because she still sleeps with me
bundled up in between
my solitude and I.

You can have her dry lips
their moisture stayed on mines
you can have her complacent smile
because you never knew the one
that's genuinely warm and affectionate
the one that I still own
the one that belongs to us.

From those star-lit nights
hundreds of moons ago
to the gray Sunday afternoons
spent underneath our skins
when it was just the two of us
and a pint of ice cream
where all the love in the world could fit
and still have plenty of room for more.

You can't have her nose
because it's still tattered with my kisses
and my essence will remain in her lungs
as long as there is air in them
as long as she walks the earth
her lips will never know once more
what is the meaning of true love
unless they meet mines again
at the door of wishful dreaming
where the sky shakes
and our heaven breaks
shared by the two of us.

You can't have her ears
because it's the color of my voice
she would always rather hear regardless
of the pain it's coated on.
So tell me now if you must know
the truth of the matter if nothing else
who is with that person with you
if she's not even with herself?

Who is that person patiently sighing
ultimately packing her bags?
I'll tell you who they belong to:
the one you can't have.