I think I'll stay wide awake tonight. And try to draw pictures in the cold starlight. And when Polaris to the south does fade, I know I'll find my way out of this maze. On this wistful full moon night. Expectations and hopes are ebbing tides, knowing my thoughts were always pure, is no consolation for what I endure. The words that now resonate in my head hard to believe that they were, indeed, said by she who once was an angel of mine. Yet now is but an object of spite. The truth and my conscience now two worlds apart. Dissonance and melody between these stars, I do admit I feel hollow and hurt. Yet I prefer not speaking a word. On this wistful full moon night. Expectations and hopes are ebbing tides, Knowing my thoughts were always pure, Is no consolation for what I endure. I'll try not to think of you too much and not let the night breeze feel like your touch.