The world doesn’t have space for our love;
No, it doesn’t allocate a spot for us
To plant our love.
The world doesn’t give us a place to cultivate our love;
To grow it, prune it, harvest it
And reap the crops thereof.
The world is too cruel for our
Love, too bitterly unfair.
Thus, I must dream a new dream;
We must dream a new dream:
One without you, without me.
A dream where there’s nothing but space in a world where
we can love freely, liberally, though separately.
We must dream a new dream where
we can give the love that we couldn’t, shouldn’t keep for ourselves.