A tear scores a line down her cheek,As I look to my baby's eyes.
A havoc on my soul does wreak,
Whenever my Angel cries.
Her look is so open, as is her heart,
In her love I am never alone.
In distance we're doomed to be apart,
Much trouble endured on our own.
If I were a clown I would paint her face,
With colours of a happier hue.
Upon red lips, a smile I would place.
And of sadness there would be so few.
If I could conjure up some tricks,
I'd place happiness behind those eyes.
And in her heart I would place a mix,
Of love and wistful sighs.
I reach out for her soul to keep,
And as I do, I wonder why,
It was heard in Heaven's weep,
The sound of an Angel's cry.
