In the beginning I thought she was mine br Taken by word, but vacant by Love br I thought I could make her shine br I rushed toward and she flew like a dove br br I told her it would be fine br But she gave me a frigid shove br I was nothing to her, but kind br She was frightened by the stranger called Love br br Now I lay here a dead swine br Trying to think of a new sound to rhyme br Sticking out of the crowded line br It looks like I’ve run out of time br br Drowning in the pool of thoughts br I hear now nothing, but wants.