The man in the Moon that once became my friend,
Likes to tell me stories hours on end.
He talks about the things he's seen,
The pain he's felt and the Beautiful Irene;
That looks up him in the moment, when she loses herself,
Then reads him the poems from her favorite shelf.
The Beautiful Irene doesn't know just how much the Moon listens.
She doesn't know that maybe just for the her the Moon glistens.
And on the nights she's lost, perhaps he wishes to be lost with her;
Never to be found, that's what he'd prefer...
And if the world never saw the Moon again,
And if the world ended in the moment then,
He'd never regret it, not even that
He'd be lost in Irene and what they've got
The man in the Moon often gets sad,
Cause he was born a rock and not a man.
The heart of a human he wishes he had;
Love the beautiful Irene finally to can.
I think this one is my favorite, that I've done :)
