More beautiful than a morning glory,
Are the words of a true love story...

Well there isn't much,
That I can do or say...

Oh in yonders wondrous city,
where endless life and merriment bloom...

I walk around your pain
I see the hurt inside...

A wise woman once said,
Son change your ways...

Ludwig in thought composed to its rage,
Fierce passions in bellowing tides...

Morality and dignity,
it seems , have become of lesser concern...

Consumed by this world
of deceit...

Love hath cast it's curse,
And for a mother there is no cure...

Like change in every season,
The unpredictable ways of life...