Fases da Lúa

I walked from room-to-room
wishing I could see the moon
while knowing my indifference
wouldn't bring a single thing to me

All your life you imagine a face
as a crescent, when really it is
more round than waning would belie
(I sleep knowing little)

Tell me a grand or wonderful lie
make it full of intrigue and desire
and then when morning comes
I'll deny it, and dream of you