Your skin is that of a young child
so very smooth to the touch
but under your hands
you turn me wild
I love you much too much...
Who locked you to the ground
and gave to you not a sound?
Why do you run from my love
while the sun still shines up above
but lock me to your chest
when the moon is at its crest?
And the silence grows and grows
Why you don't speak... Heaven knows
Was "I love you" so hard to say
that you had to send me away?