Rufus Wainwright
Miscellaneous
The King of Y's
Since we cannot bend these jealous guardians,
Ah! let me
Tell my sorrows
And my soul.
In vain, my beloved!
They think I am in despair;
Near your closed door
I still want to stay.
The suns will be able to extend.
The nights will replace the days.
Without accusing you and without complaining
There, I will always stay.