A half-lit moon makes its way through shriveled branches,
As she listens to the rhythm of my shoes on cobbled roads.
A drowsy black dog looks upto me with a little hope,
Which fades soon as she rests her head between her paws.
I shall ask the moon to dance with me tonight
On the lonely beach where the waves silently die,
From there we shall look up at the dark palace on the hills
And feel sorry for a King so wishing to be rid of his crown.
I see a few gypsy men sit by their lazy fires,
Their stock of stories seemingly ran out fast
And as the men in their homes surrender to sleep
The town seems to wake up to the moon at last.
But how does the poet court the moon tonight?
How does he make her jealous without you by his side?
The poet wants to draw the moonlight from your lips
The poet wants to feel the night in your hair,
Without you by his side he is but a creature of nowhere.
Oh, promise me that you will torture me through the night
And break my heart into a thousand little pieces,
Then you will spread them all across the Milky Way
So that each be a star to light up this beautiful night.