I hate the way you look at me,
feelings so sure of love
I don't want to believe again
that they come from the Lord above.

My heart's been broken too many times;
do I sell myself once more
to a feeling that you are the one
that stands upon my floor?

It may be wrong,even worse a trap
to give in to this love;
but I must confess within my dreams
it's you that I dream of.

Sing no more, or shout it high?
for now we will see
if the words that I write tonight
hold truth to this sanity.