we're victims of the loneliness
the loneliness of tides
we're fingered by the outcast moon
who high above resides
the moon hangs sadly in the sky
with only stars as friends
their sparkles are a kindly smile
directed straight to him
but earth is closer to the moon
and towards us he will stretch
he yearns to end his solitude
and for some love to catch
he pulls on us like heart string tugs
and makes our oceans swell
his tears will crash upon the shore
then ebb a fare-thee-well
sometimes he'll wax poetically
not seldom is he blue
he clips and supersedes the sun
to get a better view
but mostly he just shines at night
and sings his silent tune
so no one ever hears
the serenading of the moon
yes, mostly he just whines at night
but no one hears his croon
and no one's ever heard about
a woman in the moon
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