Wanting

In the arms of another,
the wandering hands of time
all start to unwind,
And I pray
to dream of you tonight.

If I could write out my own dreams,
I would write the saddest songs,
just for your heart to hear,
and lace them with the most sexual pain.

With darkness in my heart, with darkness in the heart of love,
the time between us is gathering dust,
and the time until I see you again,
stretches out before me
like a path overgrown with vines,
a bitter snake,
searching for a way in from the cold.

So I cross my heart and I hope to die,
and I wonder if it will be tonight,
that you kiss my forehead
and lay me down to sleep,
one last time.