If only someone asked
What does it mean for us,
The Loving
I'd kiss his tired head.
Or give him mine instead.
And glowing of course,
We're glowing
I'd count his scars with lips.
Or with my fingertips
Like Braille
He knows my secret codes,
I'm hiding in my notes,
And saying:
My nightingale
If only someone asked,
What does it mean for us,
The Loving
He knows my secret codes
I'm hiding in my notes
And saying:
My nightingale"