If there's a way to say I'm sorry Perhaps I'll stay another evening beside your door And watch the moon rise inside your window Where jewels are falling, and flowers weeping, and strangers laughing Because you're grieving that I have gone. And if I don't know why I'm going Perhaps I'll wait beside the pathway where no-one's coming And count the questions I turned away from, or closed my eyes to Or had no time for, or passed right over Because the answers would shame my pride. I've heard them say the word forever But I don't know if words have meaning when they are promised In fear of losing what can't be borrowed Or lent in blindness, or blessed by pageantry, or sold by preachers While you're still walking your separate way. Sometimes we bind ourselves together And seldom know the harm in binding the only feeling that cries for freedom And needs unfolding and understanding And time for holding a simple mirror With one reflection to call your own. If there's an end to all our dreaming Perhaps I'll go while you're still standing beside your door And I'll remember your hands encircling a bowl of moonstones A lamp of childhood, a robe of roses Because your sorrows were still unborn.