Though none are here, a voice descends,
Though none are here, a voice transcends.
Perhaps my love, perhaps my love,
Is calling me, it now attends.
Though none are here, a voice descends,
Perhaps my love, perhaps my love,
Is calling me, it now attends.
My lips embrace her subtle grace,
My lips embrace her gentle space.
Her melodies, my words they find,
Her melodies, my words they find.
I pen the song, she sings its trace,
I pen the song, she sings its grace.
Perhaps my love, perhaps my love,
Is calling me, her warm embrace.
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