I'm struck by Cupid's arrow.
The pangs across my heart make me sorrow.
I'm caught in the tentacles of love.
The grasp at first gentle as a dove,
Now is hard for me to harbor.
I abhor, yeah, I abhor
My days of hell
In this love-cell
Always looking through the clerestory,
As a day dawns briskly,
And a light shines bright
To herald my freedom and right.
When that day dawns,
I'll awake as my heart yawns
And leaps with ecstasy
To welcome my liberty.
But if again I go love-searching,
I'd be careful to do some searching.
For my heart is a precious thing,
Which mustn't be traded for a farthing.