Give me a reason to be,
It could really be anything
In this world of absurdities,
I sleepwalk, lost, won't you wake me?
Give me a reason to be,
Your poet, your muse, your prophet,
Let me blow some wind
Into your airless desert,
And water it with my tears;
My dear, I am a woman of sorrows,
I cry into the abyss,
Until there is nothing left
But me and the darkness; but if my tears
Could be of any use to anyone here,
Then I would shed them happily,
My love, I am a woman of sorrows,
Melancholy is my friend,
She never lets go of my hand,
She swims in my coffee,
In the smoke of my cigarette,
She whispers words of agony
In the ticking of my clock,
(Your life is closer to ending
With every Tick-Tock!)
So give me a reason to be,
A dying rose, a fleeting reverie,
A song, a poem or a dream
For one day, my love,
It will be too late to be!
