What is a noble knight to do when his damsel doesn't need saving?
Or the jester if his juggling, tricks and jokes aren't entertaining?
The sage is in trouble; it seems all the wisdom he shares is already known.
And how is a chef to prepare her a meal she's already made on her own?

How can a vocalist hope to compare with the sound of an Angels' song?
How does a warrior fight for his love when she already stands just as strong?
Not even the sun in its splendor could match her beauty and light;
No artist could paint it on canvas, though he try with all of his might.

What sculptor with marble or clay could match what God has done with her face?
Was ever more perfect creation beheld in all of the human race?
I know in my heart we are meant to be; this was told unto me from above.
But what could I give that is lacking in her, except my unending love?

What use are my words, what good my embrace, what more can they add to her life?
What value am I to her person, that she would consider becoming my wife?
What do I have to be worth her attention, to capture her heart and desire?
I do not know what I am to this girl, that I should light her inner fire.

I know only this, with all of my heart and all that I know to be true.
Christine, if my life is a question, the answer is certainly you.
I love beyond every thought, word, or act could ever explain or unfold.
And all of that love is directed at you, the woman I most long to hold.

So though I have not much to offer, I give you the gift of myself.
Use me, abuse me, love me or lose me, hang me upon a high shelf,
Cuddle me, crush me, desire me or not, listen or ignore my cries,
Whatever you do to me, always you'll be an Angel in my eyes.