I wish that I could tell you
      all the things I want to say
And I would try to do so
      in some bland, uncultured way
But I would fail in my attempt
      to give just voice to my heart
For I was born with gilded pen,
      and silver tongue; my start
I want, I need, I love; 
      they seem like simple things to say
But it seems too bold and yet too plain
      to speak it in that way
My heart will swell and burst
      if I give it not a voice
But if freely I let it speak,
      in what I say, I have not a choice
And I would surely lose you; 
      for my words would drive you away
If I let my heart speak of
      all that it wanted me to say