If I was Saturday night. And you were Sunday morning. For a fleeting moment we could touch at midnight. And in that moment could you really know me?. But I am looking ‘cross the river. Longing to be near. The water is too wide I can not reach you. I'm as close as I can ever hope to be. And if I was Winter dying. And you the virgin Spring. Gladly to your warmth I would surrender. To melt the snows and set the rivers free. But I am standing on the mountain. Longing to be near. Heaven is too high I can not reach you. I'm as close as I can ever hope to be. And if you were the water that He turned into wine. And you could satisfy a drunkard's thirst. Well I'd surely drink until I could not see. But I am lost in the Devil's storm. Longing to be near. The wind it blows too hard I can not reach you. I'm as close as I can ever hope to be. And if I was Saturday night. And you were Sunday morning. For a fleeting moment we could touch at midnight. And in that moment could you really know me?