I am sitting here, awaiting my return
I am sitting here, awaiting my return.
A triumphant horn to sooth my burns.
A sound that bears the meaning of bliss,
I feel I’m far too old for this.
Listen for your beckoning.
Hoping for, but reckoning
nothing more than seconding your emotions.
I am a stone in a glance and my heart does the dance
of a thousand men in harmony. Won’t you please be a part of me?
Please be a part of me.