When I am not with you I am alone, For there is no one else And there is nothing That comforts me but you. When you are gone Suddenly I am sick, Blackness is round me, There is nothing left. I have tried many things, Music and cities, Stars in their constellations And the sea, But there is nothing That comforts me but you; And my poor pride bows down Like grass in a rain-storm Drenched with my longing. The night is unbearable, Oh let me go to you For there is no one, There is nothing To comfort me but you. |