The Quiet River

On this quiet riverside I sit; wishing
That my life was different; hoping
That there was someone to save me
To give me warmth on a cold night.

As the river moves on a path well known,
I yearn for someone to hold my hand.
Someone to save me from the biting cold
Someone to touch me, and save my soul.

Someone to fight for me, cry for me
Laugh with me, get pointlessly angry at me.
Someone for whom I could leave the world
Someone who would make me forget.

My heart bleeds, the cuts are deep.
But perhaps this punishment is just.
Perhaps it's the best - for you and me
Perhaps ... Perhaps I still love you.