To serve our country somewhere far away.
But every day tells me how much I love you,
And how I'll mend it once I'm home to stay.
For life is but a dream, and we the dreamers,
Making what we will of what we are.
When gates clang shut, we are our own redeemers,
As love leaves for us a door ajar.
So dream with me these empty months of sorrow
As we find ways to be together still.
No longing can be brighter than tomorrow,
Nor dream less certain than our strength of will.
