Street-lamps hunch over in silent reverie,
like old wise men ready to pray.
Their colours glow back the cool blue of her eyes,
love, light the way.
Children lie sleeping under cool cotton sheets,
while dreams brusquely whisk them away.
I feel so close to my own dreams tonight,
love, light the way.
The moon sits and gazes, as it always has done,
hoping romance can last until day.
Well this is the night, and the moment is ours,
love, won't you light my way.
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