What is clearly passion you label rage
and you say i seethe, but i cannot cage
this tempest in me which blows too strong
and so what choice is left, but to just move on?
To sail this ship to new blue seas
to grit my teeth and get off my knees
to enjoy the view with eager eyes
and trace the faces as time flies
for many new ones there are bound to be
to replace the old that mean the world to me.
and If we should meet when our faces are lined
and hours spare we manage to find
then sit with me and i'll keep you warm
in moonfleet bay throughout the storm,
and exchange tales of the last long years
with many 'what ifs' and regretful tears
for the tale of our lives should be told as one
but if you have to leave i must move on.
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