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Hope dies, withered on the vine,
Old before its time. Water into brine.
And dreams die, waiting to be fed,
Long before they’re wed to life.
So here we are, two ships without a sail,
No rudder for the gale winds or the tailspins.

I miss you even when you’re near
You’re leaving, pouring out like tears.
If dreams die before we give them life
Why should love survive?

Hope tries. First you’re holding hands
Then dreams become demands
And passion turns to plans
And love tries, blinded by its youth,
To turn its anger into truth.
So here we are, two ships upon the land,
No anchor for the sand dunes when the earth moves.

I miss you even when you’re near
You’re leaving, pouring out like tears.
If hope tries to fight the test of time
Why can't you and I?

Feed me. Pluck me from the vine
Stop the hands of time
Turn water into wine
And see me. Treasure every seed
Pleasure in the need -- be mine.

Here you are, my comet in the sky,
Afraid to spin too high, and burning as you fly.

I miss you even when you’re near
You’re leaving, pouring out like tears.
If dreams die, then why should you and I?
We were born to fly.

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