My husband is a daydream,
tall and slender and brilliant in the golden daylight
He is generous and gentle and good,
wise and worthy and witty,
the sort of man all husbands should be
My husband is a daydream,
but I cannot love him in the silver moonlight
He is generous and gentle and good,
but the wife he deserves
is the sort of woman I can never be
My lover is a firework,
hot and bright and dazzling in the black midnight
She is fair and fierce and flawless
sly and sweet and stunning,
the sort of woman who makes a traitor of me
My lover is a firework,
but I dare not hold her in the golden daylight
She is fair and fierce and flawless
but the love she deserves
is the sort of fearless I can never be
Into the darkness, I reach for his hand
and cry for the soul within this good man
who is cursed to love what he can’t understand
Into the light, I step once towards her
and pray for the courage to be steady and sure
to make women from the girls we were
