Looking into the lake before me
I see the moon...
No its not really there
Its not really the moon.
Staring into the water
I see his face...
He's not really there,
That's not really him.
A ripple in the water,
Caused by my own tear.
It reveals my own face,
My own reflection in the lake,
It wasn't him.
Though I wish it had been...
He won't come back though.
Will you?
