I love her,
that simple, white face.
She kisses me every night that she shes me.
They say she's barren, but
we know better than they do.

I was born under her;
on her zenith.
on her day.

She is a sentinel;
she patrols us.
And just how flak has she
taken on our behalf?

She says she's lonesome.
The fortune-tellers fear her approach,
and say she is the bringer of trouble.
She just has been branded with that iron.

Sailors may curse her,
but do they know that they rely upon her?
She grabs the seas,
for blanket to warm her.

And now it comes to light
that Mr. Big wants to go to her now.
He's interested in her vast depth of knowledge.
But he'll just take, and not give.

That's not what she wants!
Why doen't he care about her needs?
I'm going to go meet her in person, one day,
Even if it will kill me.