Under the light of the moon, I stand outside. Thinking about shooting bullets to the stars, And singing as the clouds go by.
This is the world of the lost, Where the wicked prosper. But here I lay with my dreams, And the moon as I wonder.
I have love and hope, As everyone should. But it is with great sadness, That they drift away with the moon.
I hold many secrets, Many which are with the moon. But non of them compare, To the love that I have for you.