Illusions are Blue

Tonight is something special
With forever in the air;
The magic is so tangible
It touches everywhere . . .
The fog is making castles
While the stars glow soft above
And, they say, on such an evening
You can meet your own true love.

The fireflies are dancing
Underneath my windowsill
And the promise of the magic
Makes me brave the evening chill.
I step into a wonderland
By entering the night
And my true love reaches to me,
Offering my heart's delight.

Is it true that magic
Is fragile as the dawn?
Will its pale illusions
Vanish with the morning sun?
When love holds its hand out,
Who wonders if it's true?
If love is an illusion,
Then illusions are blue.

Tonight has been so magic
That I hate to see it end,
And the feeling lingers after
Causing all my hurts to mend.
The dawn is getting nearer
And the night draws to a close;
My true love's acting restless
And his words strike me like blows.

He's sorry he deceived me
And he's sorry that he lied.
He'll hate himself tomorrow
With the memory of my eyes--
But the passion overtook him
And the feeling made him bold.
So he leaves me feeling empty,
Feeling used, and feeling old.

Love can't be called true
Unless it can't tell a lie--
I guess that's why my dreams
All seem destined to die.
If there's logic and reason,
Why is love what we choose?
Looks like love's an illusion,
And illusions are blue.

(c) A.K.Miller
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