Oh, the words of love... in love the words are moot, the utterances lost in twilight, And twilight lost until the sun above Has brought you back to life, brought you back to life. Then your enchanted reason, ahead of daily strife, ahead of daily strife Is giving up its freedom and defenses, accepting pa**ionate, transcendent might Of giving up yourself to the words of love. In rhyme or prose they well within And like the creek becoming flood they overcome All well-established banks of clear reason And float the boats of happiness or wrecking ships of some On the shores of the words of love... Hmm, the words of love... the words in love are moot, in love the words are lost in moonlight, And moonlight lost when sun comes up above And brings you back to life, brings you back to life. Then un-believing reason, instead of daily strife, instead of daily strife Surrenders to your feelings and your senses, accepting pa**ionate, transcendent might Of giving up yourself to the words of love.