She woke up with a ring to hear
your baritone voice.
Her morning couldn't be
more melodious,
than it got every second
she spent talking to you.
From the small cries for
the future to hold on,
To joys of happiness
of now to keep.
You are her Amour,
that came with the bright night.
When she woke up to a start
And found the dark day fading away with the sweet night,
She didn't know Withholding an amour for her.
An amour which got happiness, joy, hope for a bright night more than the day.
A world affair which couldn't be let gone.
The more close she stepped to the amour the more she got away from the dark day.
