What's to become of me
And all my dreamer's dreams
Of the pale moonlight
Touching down on gossamer wings

What's to become of me
When all the lovers are gone
And I wake up to any empty day
More lonely than alone

What's to become of me
When the candles die out
And the incense stops burning
After the muse departs the scene

What's to become of me
When the reasons disappear
When the inspiration fades
When the calling is but a vague memory

What's to become of me