If a seagull came and brought me the Lisbon sky---(I am coming there tomorrow) The drawing it would trace across that sky where your gaze is a wing which cannot fly but falls mournfully to the sea.

Such a perfect heart
Would beat in my breast
My love in your hand
That hand where my heart
Would be a perfect fit.

Such a perfect heart
Would beat in my breast
My love in your hand
That hand where my heart
Would be a perfect fit.

My heart we will meats tomorrow...