• I turned my back because I didn't want to see her,
    then I looked over my shoulder out of pure fear,
    I thought that one day she'd disappear.
    To her, the only thing that was clear,
    was the image of a hazel-eyed puppy, coming up on the rear,
    always following, always near, under its master,
    and it loved her so dearly.

    Blinded by love, I find I'm chasing my tail,
    while she's jumping the gun, and missing the rail,
    gripping for dear life, my heart so frail,
    weighing it down and breaking the scale.
    Everything I knew of love said it prevailed.
    That's why I don't know anything, that's why it always fails.

    She looks down with such disdain,
    at the object in her frame,
    for this gift to her, was not a gain,
    but it's already hers, and it's already been slain.
    I must refrain from crying, from smiling, from drooling,
    from laughing, from sighing, from speaking, from fooling myself,
    from going insane,
    from whispering in vain,
    saying those words
    From shouting her name.
    Shame.
    Loving her is always pain.

    But even tomorrow has a past,
    I've been saving the best for last,
    so hurry here, but not so fast,
    for I might lose you in that past,
    what lies ahead is something vast.
    There is no predetermined course,
    what lies ahead is a healing force.

    Yesterday held sorrow's source,
    today's result is much remorse
    and tomorrow we'll get on my horse
    and ride away together,
    disregard the nasty weather.
    You are mine and I am yours,
    with so many shores and doors to explore,
    if you'll hand me the key.
    And we'll ride 'til our hearts burst
    and the giddiness hits our cores,
    and then will ditch this horse
    and take our wings
    and we will soar.

    Or...

    Tomorrow
    You'll keep me in my place, when I hear you whisper "Thanks"
    So when I mean to say ‘I love you’, I'll use all of my restraint.
    And I'll realize my worst fear.
    Regret claiming every tear.
    Because my pulse roaring with life,
    roaring with love, couldn't reach your ears.
    A tick on a clock,
    And the grind of a gear,
    and I'll have less than a year,
    before you disappear.