I still yearn to give you all that I can
even though there's no more you to give to.
It won't stop, I don't see how it can
I don't see how I can stop those feelings.
Each of us is a little whirlwind, like we see
on the city streets or in a field of green.
Here, for a brief time, stirring things up, ha ha,
dancing and singing; laughing and crying.
We give of our artistry from our hearts, our spirits
upon the altar of life itself, bowing, then looking up
and into one another's eyes with a gleam and a smile.
How can we kill the belief we will see each other again?
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