two curious eyes that fear they'll never see the light of day
one eager mouth that knows it's never found the words to say
a hundred little hairs lying on the cutting room floor
someday we'll make a face they've never seen before
a dozen orchids waiting for that sweet spring to arrive
your morning glory drowning under unfair summer skies
seven dried up roses on another window sill
someday we'll make a garden that blooms and never wilts
but hope is not a medicine
an injection or a pill
hold still, my love
hold still
two thousand and six, another number, big and bound to grow
so we'll see what sticks & try not to watch the hours come and go
i see three figures picking flowers on a hill
someday we'll make a family, just tell me that we will
cuz hope is not a medicine
an injection or a pill
hold still, my love
hold still
hold still, my love
hold still