Look at the moon my love…the way it glimmers in the
night..
We are not the first nor the last basking in her light
Do you think she sees how your eyes when they look
certain then surprised , could make the coldest iceberg
melt..
Look at the moon my love…the way she whispers to a
star…
We are not the first nor the last to adore her from afar…
Do you think the moon understands the simple beauty of
your hands, when they are longing to be held…
Do you think she knows the language of our prayers?
Do you think she knows, or even cares?
Do you think she hears our names?
In her eyes we’re all the same …
From her cradle way above..
The moon sees only love…
Look at the moon my dear… at all the stories she can tell
We are not the first nor the last to fall under her spell…
Do you think she hears my heart, breaking the loneliness
apart, wishing my mouth could be as bold…
Do you think she knows the language of our prayers?
Do you think she knows, or even cares?
Do you think she hears our names?
In her eyes we’re all the same …
From her cradle way above..
The moon sees only love…
Look at the moon..she knows..
That every moment something grows.
We are not the first nor the last, to trust her with our
woes..
I know the moon would rise,
if she could only see your eyes,
if she could understand the power they have over every
song I sing…..
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