Wild nights, were I with thee,
wild nights should be our luxury.
Futile the winds to a heart in port.
Done with the compass.
Done with the chart.
I sang to use the waiting,
I didn't have to try.
I'll shut the door to my house;
No more to seek have I.
Such a little thing to weep,
so short a thing to sigh;
and yet by trades the size of these we men and women die
You say goodnight
like starting tonight
You plan to say it
the rest of my life.
Wild nights, were I with thee,
wild nights should be our luxury.
Futile the winds to a heart in port.
Done with the compass.
Done with the chart.
Such a little thing to weep,
so short a thing to sigh;
and yet by trades the size of these we men and women die
You walk outside
And for a short time
it seems just like
for keeps and for life.
Do I dare write
the words or recite
on of the off chance
that this might be right?