Were the nights any sweeter
   The mornings any cooler, when she was here?
   Or was the mind grown accustomed to hearing "Good morning Dear"?
  
   Should I still feel all the sunshine
   That remembering brings to mind with my thoughts of her?
   Lord, we both know things could never be the way they were
  
   Her little girl illusions
   built the wall of confusion between right and wrong
   That stands between her and the dream I had cherished so long
  
   Now faded and tattered, once all that mattered when she was here
   And a mind grown accustomed to hearing "Good morning dear"
  
   Were the nights any sweeter
   The mornings any cooler, when she was here?
   Or was the mind grown accustomed to hearing "Good morning Dear"?