In the distance our promises skate,
Is not our servitude yet done?
For we won't move at this rate.

Still, the days drift, too late.
We watch the sky and the sun
but still the days drift--we wait.

Yes, it is good--set the date!
But ah, the wait, tis never fun.
Surely, surely it is fate.

Lay the lines, I'll take the bate,
And all doubts I'll shun
For surely, it is worth the wait.

We travel through time, mate
like slow streams run.
We are helpless, it's fate.

In silent anxiety, we wait.
Innocently, like a nun
To your loneliness, I can relate.
For our date with fate, we must wait.