Tryst

Let us meet. Let us meet - away from the chaotic crowd of happy  memories - in a lonesome melancholic corner  of our hearts.

Let me love you. Let me  love you - far off  from moments of merry - when your heart is all alone and falling  apart.

Let me hold your hand. Let me hold you hand, not in the party of friends, but in that misty deserted street of pain.

Let me come to your place. Let me come to your place  - not on a sunny day all that gay, but on days your sky is pouring out rain.