So, it seems my own thoughts are not my own,
That they actually belong to you.
Like library books, I have them on loan
With a return date that's always now due.
I used to think that my own thoughts were mine,
When my thoughts were a many varied thing.
But that all changed from the wonderful time
That in harmony, our hearts learned to sing.
My thoughts are of you now as they were when
I was with you in the flesh and your heart.
But now I feel something I did not then:
Thoughts of you, without you, hurt something smart.
My thoughts, like many things, still remain true:
They belong, not to me: They do to you.