What is love but to kiss the night? To battle something you can not see, To lower your head in anguish every time the dawn approaches You will slumber without knowing exactly where your bed is, because you have slept in it for too long And are the birds unto us a signal for stormy waters? That we may be due for some trouble, That love will not be the victor this time because their chirps are so But we swallow our pride at the end of the day and give in to the night, the wonderful darkness of love
