The Genesis began with you,
My Adam’s apple swallowed my pride
With that infatuated pull,
On that eve I thought my love was ideal,
I looked at you as a man looks at a jewel,
Alas, the world could not be more cruel.

Judges on podiums heard my psalms,
The proverbs of the wise were my court of alms,
The chronicles of love I held in my palms,
And yet foolishly I ignored all alarms,
I lament my foolishness as I sing this song of sorrow,
The tune of the soloist distorted by a damsel in my everyday morrow,
Where was my moral to save me from this hollow,

My shallow acts won’t let me look to mark my words,
Nor will my no-more-gallant heart ever beat for yours,
Love is the loss that left me with remorse,
On that hill I began my exodus and today I divert my course,
Back to that solitary hill to hold my once-strong appeal,
And yet all I can say is; my love was real.