He was crazy of course From the first she must have known it But still she went on with him And she never once had shown it And she took him off the street And she dried his tears of grieving She listened to his visions She believed in his believe-ins
Oh, he was the sun burning bright and brittle And she was the moon shining back his light a little He was a shooting star She was softer and more slowly He could not make things possible But, she could make them holy
He was dancing to some music No one else had ever heard He'd speak in unknown languages She would translate every word And then when the world was laughing At his castles in the sky She'd hold him in her body Till he once again could fly
Oh, he was the sun burning bright and brittle And she was the moon shining back his light a little He was a shooting star She was softer and more slowly He could not make things possible But, she could make them holy
Well, she gave him a daughter And she gave him a son She was a mother, and a wife, And a lover when the day was done He was too far gone for giving love What he offered in its stead Was the knowledge she was the only thing That was not in his head
He took off East one morning Towards the rising sun's red glow She knew he was going nowhere But of course she let him go And as she stood and watched him dwindle Much too empty to be sad He reappeared beside her saying, "You're all I've ever had"
Oh, he was the sun burning bright and brittle And she was the moon shining back his light a little He was a shooting star She was softer and more slowly He could not make things possible But, she could make them holy Holy