Were the nights any sweeter

The mornings any cooler, when she was here?

Or was the mind grown accustomed to hearing "Good morning Dear"?



Should I still feel all the sunshine

That remembering brings to mind with my thoughts of her?

Lord, we both know things could never be the way they were



Her little girl illusions

built the wall of confusion between right and wrong

That stands between her and the dream I had cherished so long



Now faded and tattered, once all that mattered when she was here

And a mind grown accustomed to hearing "Good morning dear"



Were the nights any sweeter

The mornings any cooler, when she was here?

Or was the mind grown accustomed to hearing "Good morning Dear"?