I want us to fall madly in love with each other,
once again, like we were way back when.
One dream, one fantasy, one hope for the future—
just to ravish and be ravished in return.
Part of falling together is drifting gently apart
as the years and the tides do their dirty work,
the waves washing away sand and rock,
morphing the coastline we worked to create.
It is not destruction—it is simply change.
It is nature in her softest and most natural state.
She's not whipping up tornadoes and typhoons—
just gentle lapping of the sea by light of the moon.
We knew when we began that we would get here—
that we'd survive and be a little love-scarred.
It is much akin to battle, and perhaps better then
than when it's apathetic, neutral, and bland.
If we, as alchemists, can transmute these flames
from flickers of past pain into fires of present passion,
we can burn for decades and then turn to sultry smoke,
flitting to the heavens and kissing the stars themselves.
Like other legendary lovers who live on in ink and paper,
our immortality is in the tale; our longevity in the taper—
for the candles must burn a lifetime long for you and I to earn
our place within the ages and our lyrics within the song.