Don't be so fast to call me Montague
for you yourself are not a Capulet
my love grows as if it were old world yew
forcing my weak lovestruck heart to submit
and yet by daylight you still deny me
ignoring our love like it were not there
laughing at it, as if it could not be
hiding it from all those who should not care
but when the sun goes down, you will cry out
my heart will sigh, but I will still answer
and all the songs of our love you will shout
with each word eating at me like cancer
because this will only last for the night
and as soon as day breaks, so will my heart.
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