Being a Man and a Lover

Being a man, being a lover who is long away from shore and woman's touch, I find I hear the music flat, a true and vibrant chord is missing, struck so much it's lost its power, all my nights are spent in restless agony and troubling dreams abound, I think, I wonder what is meant in keeping all her smiles; so cruel it seems. But wait I will, I'll be with mine and mine alone, the touch you bring is worth the lot, a hundred years a day it's all the time it's all the same to me, for time cannot remove you from my thoughts or take my old and breathing strength, It's Real, or this I'm told.