| My love speaks of poetry She speaks through the Wind and rain She names all her favourite poets And recites there verses She speaks of the infinite sorrow She speaks through plagiarism And of now is the time For a lesser tomorrow She spoke softly of babes in arms And of breathless sighs In the arms of lovers She told a tale of enmity And how no one was to show neither mercy nor pity She reads of greed, jealously, lust and rage She spoke of England�s curse And White Cliffs of Dover But most importantly She spoke of love A love that nothing can come Between, through, under or over But; On a night like this I wish she never spoke to me at all Cause once that was found Is now only to be lost For my love does not speak to me any more |