Your deep-blue Eskimo eyes are
a tad peculiar,
but more beauteous
than any others I've ever
been a witness
or witless servant to.
Lie awake in the twilight
knowing well that to sleep is to have dreams of
you, ah!
Just you are.
Why did we have to go our separate ways?
You'll have grown a lot since then,
perhaps no longer
that cinnamon girl,
who'd always smile of the slightest
brittle reason
and outbeam the rays of the sun?
I'm not over, I'm under,
knowing well that to sleep is to have dreams of
you, ah!
Just you are.
Why did we have to go our separate ways?
I need you,
Just you.
Why did we have to go our separate ways?
I need you...