Verse 1
Rose-window traces saint in gold outline,
Candle wax drips time on the bronze shrine.
You in your robe of white — like dawn's cloud —
Hidden by the fresco painter in a corner proud.

The organ's bass line crawls over cobblestone,
Latin trembles on parchment, barely known.
I follow the old rite, lift the chalice high,
But see your face in the water as I sigh.

Chorus
The glass waits for sunset — and I wait for you,
My quill dips in sighs, no ending to pursue.
Moonlight breaks through ironwork, a prayer in shards,
Your footsteps sound like a Mass lingering in the yards.

The glass waits for sunset — and I wait for you,
A saint on stained glass lowers her eyes, my tears in view.
Gothic spires pierce the secret clouds above —
We are only one fresco apart, my love.

Verse 2
Olive leaves are kneaded into letters by the breeze,
Orpheus's oath exiles on harp strings with ease.
You say “amo” in Latin — so classical and old,
Yet I've searched Roman paths for centuries to hold.

Gargoyles open grey eyes in the rainy night,
The bell tolls twelve — and moonlight starts to fright.
I hold a manuscript, walk the cloister round,
Waiting for a rest note that turns into your sound.

Chorus
The glass waits for sunset — and I wait for you,
My quill dips in sighs, no ending to pursue.
Moonlight breaks through ironwork, a prayer in shards,
Your footsteps sound like a Mass lingering in the yards.

The glass waits for sunset — and I wait for you,
A saint on stained glass lowers her eyes, my tears in view.
Gothic spires pierce the secret clouds above —
We are only one fresco apart, my love.

Bridge
Baroque pearls are washed by the sea into uneven memory,
The hem of your turning dress stirs a harpsichord's harmony.
I walk to the end of perspective, trying to measure the space —
Only to find that love is a lost aria's grace.

Chorus (key change)
The glass waits for sunset — and I wait for you,
My quill dips in sighs, no ending to pursue.
Moonlight breaks through ironwork, a prayer in shards,
Your footsteps sound like a Mass lingering in the yards.

The glass waits for sunset — and I wait for you,
A saint on stained glass lowers her eyes, my tears in view.
Gothic spires pierce the secret clouds above —
We are only one fresco apart, my love.

Outro
The glass waits for sunset — and I wait for you,
The last ray on the window spells your name in light — true.

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