• As the days, turns to night. And the night, turns to day. Almost all of my love is with you. My heart is the weakist part of my soul. Because it cant desire what i want. And what i want is you. But how shall one get what one's hope is? No one surley knows. As i look up to the sun, and watch the clouds fade away, I think. Who he think i shall live as? Not as one's servent. The heart of your life, the heart of my pain, Is your heart of desire.