I must ask you a question, but I wish to stop the clocks.
Anxiety's attacking me but I don't know if I-
Like men on mountains herding sheep and tending to their flocks-
Can live like this; I'd be remiss, to put life off and die,
For living like the men on mountains-living life alone-
Is not the way I wish to live or occupy my life.
I'd rather live my life without you if I'd ask a stone,
And that is how I fear you'd plead, fulfilling all my strife,
But I'll ask you this question since I cannot stop the clocks
And hope that, when you answer, it will be a firm caress,
And you can be the men on mountains; I will be the flocks,
But if your answer happens to be wry in its address,
I will move on to live my life and see another day
Where suns are shining, skies are blue, and sheep run out to play.