I think of you amidst a crowd and the chorus of city sounds
for that is my song, and you are the music
You are my first thought of each new day
and the last image I glimpse,
as my eyes are closed upon a feathered pillow.
In that secret place called sleep, it is you that I search for,
through shades of darkness and clouds of cotton.
And, when the final sleep does come
and if there is thought... it will be of you.