I love you,
and yet I’ve known nothing less.
Nothing but old fairy tales
and post cards.
And I don’t know if you’ve sent me
or the other tower in King’s Island,
Oh we’ve had our ups and downs.
Some close calls
and some days where we couldn’t hang up.
And I know
that I want nothing more,
bu I fear
that I’ve known nothing less.
Now it’s cold
in our Paris, for the night.
But at least
in your arms, with this view, it is warm