Were the nights any sweeter 
The mornings any cooler, when she was here? 
Or was the mind grown accustomed to hearing "Good morning Dear"? 

Should I still feel all the sunshine 
That remembering brings to mind with my thoughts of her? 
Lord, we both know things could never be the way they were 

Her little girl illusions 
Built the wall of confusion between right and wrong 
That stands between her and the dream I had cherished so long 

Now faded and tattered, once all that mattered when she was here 
And a mind grown accustomed to hearing "Good morning dear" 

Were the nights any sweeter 
The mornings any cooler, when she was here? 
Or was the mind grown accustomed to hearing "Good morning Dear"?