In the depth of night thou find'st me
Rapt in thinking of thee,
Lonesome, besieged with deception,
Wishing it had been the end,
Night leaveth not off it's erring
Making me it's intimate friend,
A cry of agony and despair within me,
Whither I must flee!
Lo! T'was most heinous crime
I committed in disgrace.
I plead to thee for mercy
A criminal appealling his crime!
I cry over promises unfulfilled,
which I sought in grace,
Mourn a love that need'th fidelity
While I'm still in my prime.
But now, when I think on thee,
My thoughts torture me
with conflicting emotion.
Besieging my mind with fear
of living an illusion.
So sometimes I do love thee
And sometimes I deceive.