Labour Of Love

You don’t remember all the things I’ve done;
You never catch the careful words I choose;
Your present will not admit my patient efforts…
It’s a labour of love I offer to you
Unselfishness, does that hold the space between us?
A helplessness, a nothing-left-to-prove?
A silence more eloquent than any passion?
It’s a labour of love I offer to you…
It’s a labour of love
It’s a gift of love
Take this hand and you will hold its stories;
Beat, the heart, and find the tell-tale truth;
Take this gift: — receipt will give it value
It’s a labour of love I offer to you
It’s a labour of love
It’s a gift of love