And so it is, that I, am a captive of your love
Bound by chains as real as iron, of my will,
As true as the fetters of the flight-kept dove
I am, forevermore, nevermore, with you still.

Of your form, graceful, flickering flame, swaying
Were bindings made, of furtive glances, coy?
‘Cross the ballroom floor, orchestra playing…
So it was that I was made your, sweet, boy.

And swept aloft, feathers to the wind by
A moonlit sonata, fingers, then lips entwined,
And in hushed murmurs found where the sinned lie,
Till, you.. and I, breathless, were but heaven confined.

By this telltale waltz, in remembrance, you lay.
My eyes, whisper-blue, grow distant and see that dawn:
‘Neath moon and stars akin you remained, till day,
And were, as if but a dream, with waking gone.

And so it is, that I, am a captive of your love
Bound by chains as real as iron, of my will,
As true as the fetters of the flight-kept dove
I am, forevermore, nevermore, with you still.