And When You Become My Wife
And when you become my wife,
I'll take you beneath my fairy-tale sky;
Turn the kettle's whistle to a flute's tune,
And give our footsteps wings to fly.
Wings to fly.
I'll make you a sorrow-proof umbrella,
Fill up our glasses with love that gleams;
Turn the flowers' song into mornings,
And all our nights into raspberry dreams.
Into raspberry dreams.
I'll dry the tears that pool along our way,
Turn minor notes to major as we play;
I'll wrap our souls up snug, without a seam,
So sorrow cannot reach them, even in a dream.
Even in a dream.
And when you become my wife,
I'll weave you garlands of dreams, strand by strand;
With poetry, we'll ride through life,
No hands!
No hands!
So glad you're here.
So glad you're already my wife.