It’s you, it’s you that I see walking by the river.
Your shirt off and your feet bare, cold.
I don’t know how I have missed it for all these years;
You come each night and stand there, worn.
I can see there is so much frailty in your solace;
You wait for someone to break it.
The moonlight seems to dance on the back of your shoulers,
Soaking you in its silver light.
But how you would react if I too danced around you,
My face full of wonder and cheer.
Would you think me a stranger, and ask me to go?
Would I ruin the ambiance?
I wish you all the peace in the world; I would go.
I swear I’d never return.
But if—Oh, if you only decided you liked me,
If only you thought I was grand.
I wouldn’t disturb your nights of moonlight and winter,
I would only wish to join in.
To no longer be this bystander, this outsider,
But to have someone to call friend.
We could race along the riverbank, laughing and splashing,
Our hair turned argent in the light.
Our clothes would be dripping with the dank, muddy water,
Our fingers gone red from the ice.
My mother would call me a fool for the way I feel,
Glancing at you through the pine trees.
But somehow I can’t feel embarrassed by all of this,
Only filled with a sort of calm.
So I’ll wait here in this chill and wish for better things,
And a day when I will be brave.
For someday I will dance with you in the moonlight.
But oh, today is not that day.