They say I should not waste my time...
that you would never look at me;
they say that I am chasing rainbows; hoping, that there might just be
something there...
some hint, some clue...
some tiny spark to recognise...
other than my wishful thinking, soft reflected in your eyes...

Oh, but you are beautiful.


They say that I should put you from my mind...
no future here for me;
I should resist this sweet, enchanting, soft, bewitching fantasy.
They say you spin a web, so honey-sweet...
the strands, so silken fine;
but, I don't care... if there is, then, the slightest chance you could be mine...

Oh, but you are beautiful.


They say that you will play with me...
as would a wilful child, a toy;
until you tire of this, and seek some new diversion to enjoy.
They say you keep your lovers broken hearts, wrapped soft, in words unsaid...
in little Golden boxes; trapped forever,
round your perfumed bed...

Oh, but you are beautiful.


They say that you will break my heart,
as surely as night follows day.
But, then... it is my heart... my choice;
a price, I am prepared to pay;
for, what then, is the price to put on love?...
this breathless ecstasy;
this tightening of the throat...
this pounding heart, when you are close to me?...

Oh, but you are beautiful.


It may well be, what they say is all true...
I really do not care;
in truth, it really does not matter,
just so long as you are there;
and, if my heart should end up broken; this too, has its own virtue...
for, in a little Golden box,
I am, forever, close to you...

Oh, but you are beautiful.