If he don't mean it, he won't say it, and I can tell
If I don't mean it, I won't say it, and his face fell
But it's so seldom I believe it – it takes a clear kind of day
Like air so cold it hurts to breathe it
And the colour comes to my face
And I don't tell my mother, I don't tell my sister
Something so tender I'd rather not speak it
Even when I know it – that he's mine
Woke up thirsty, lost in memory, coming in swells
And dreams stay with me, long into morning, strange wells
I've been free, but I've known not freedom – like a kite
It was a glimpse, but I did see him: at full height
And I left it all unspoken and free;
In the coming and the going, knowing not what he means
And I don't even know him – but he's mine