Sweet little words made for silence, not talk
Young heart for love, not heartache
Dark hair for catching the wind
Not to veil the sight of a cold world

Kiss,
While your lips are still red
While he's still silent
Rest while bosom's still untouched, unveiled
Hold another hand
While the hand's still without a tool
Drown into eyes while they're still blind
Love while the night still hides the withering dawn