I would give my soul
to the child you wanted.
I would give my tears
to the stare you had.
I would give my flame
to the breath you bore.
I would give my tears
to the battles that were our undoing.
I would give my soul
as the friend of your soul,
like a man
condemned by his love.
Who knows (if) there is nothing left to believe in
once hope is gone...
Think of me
as his stare lingers on you.
Think of me
as his gestures hurt you.
Think of me
as his shadow leaves you.
Think of me
for as long as I have time remaining.
Think of me
as the curtain falls.
Think of me
after too much weakness
Think of me
so that my body stands straight
Think of me
Think of me
...away from you...
Think of me
I will let hours
run around your wrists.
I will leave several
of my nights at your bedstand.
I will leave the smell
of your skin closer still.
I will leave fear
fearing to be too close.
I will leave my heart
at the core of what you are.
And if I die out of it
it's because dying wanted it
No matter if there is nothing left to believe in
once hope is gone...
Think of me
as his eyes stroke you...
Sorry, but Mr Halliday is as famous for his incredible sex appeal, velvet voice, manly poses *and* lack of capability to write consistent French.