Where the Moon Spends His Days

This, My dear, is where
The starlight ends, my dear
I always imagine that
It would be like
This, my dear, is Godot
Should interfere
Is this ce point where
we should kiss?
Or is this just a walk?

And this, my love, is where
The moon spends his days,
My love.
I always imagined it to be a
Little higher above, my love,
Like where the wind blows our
Minds, my love.
Is this the time for our embrace?
Or is this just a walk?

This, my love, is where the
Clocks buy time, my love.
and this, my dear, is where a
Fool shows his love, my dear.

There. I sad it.
It threw a different light on you.
Now I get it.
It threw different light on you.

(Merci