Late at night when I can't sleep,
and my thoughts run all too deep,
and always return to you,
to the memories I keep
locked away, hidden from view :
all my memories of you

Like hands softly on my throat,
turning cold as winter's coat,
choking all the life from me,
everytime as if by rote,
drowning in a frozen sea :
drowning me, in memory

I recall so well your eyes,
blacker than the midnight skies
stretching endlessly above;
blacker even than the lies
that what we had was love,
that what we had was love.
 
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