Love Hurts

The wind carries your shadow like a slow train,
Brushing your hair as gently as it could.
You are a man of mystery.

The blinking light of the morning sun,
Flowing through my way like a stream.
I am a woman of love.

The real you is hiding beneath the moon,
When I cried through the night.
The mystery of your love is just an illusion.

Now, take the wind and the light before dawn break,
Leave me as the morning comes in.
I will survive by the sunshine.