At night she comes into my arms and sheds the world of 
all it's harm, I know
now she was always meant to stay.
But callous is the world at large, I need to yet 
encourage
her, I sense her insecurities at play.
and mischievous as she may be, I love it when her mind 
is
free, she puts us in our place and there we stay.
In all our glory and our shame she doesn't feel the 
need
for fame, she just wants to express it in her way.

And listening to her fondest dreams, I know that life's 
not
what it seems, the shadows of my darkness made to flee.

And by and by the time will pass, we look through this
lucid glass, we hold before our eyes that we may see,
and love denies the still despair, that beckons 
throughout
Of tenderness and music fair, reminding us that we must
care, and life moves on with no control of speed.

And listening to her fondest dreams, I know that life's 
not
what it seems, the shadows of my darkness made to flee.

And joy is what she subtly brings, we know that life is 
full
of things, she points them out and makes me see so 
clear.
The garden of our love is frail, we must work hard that 
it
not fail, a great deal of the strength is in our fears.
But they're like clouds that fade away, then shape
themselves another day, and sometimes rain disguised as
tears, that fall into our heart's desire, to live and
love we must aspire, for life
becomes what we make it appear.