You put me in your shadows;
box me like old magazines;
tear up all the photos,
lest they end up being seen.

You make sure no one’s looking
just before you take a chance,
lest they see you kissng
me, or catch us in a dance.

Say they won’t understand it,
so we’d best keep from the light;
you talk like we planned it,
when it’s more than we could write.

If you’re the secret angel,
fanning flames inside my soul,
how will I be able
to remain invisible?