He was crazy of course 
From the first she must have known it 
But still she went on with him 
And she never once had shown it 
And she took him off the street 
And she dried his tears of grieving 
She listened to his visions 
She believed in his believe-ins 

Oh, he was the sun burning bright and brittle 
And she was the moon shining back his light a little 
He was a shooting star 
She was softer and more slowly 
He could not make things possible 
But, she could make them holy 

He was dancing to some music 
No one else had ever heard 
He'd speak in unknown languages 
She would translate every word 
And then when the world was laughing 
At his castles in the sky 
She'd hold him in her body 
Till he once again could fly 

Oh, he was the sun burning bright and brittle 
And she was the moon shining back his light a little 
He was a shooting star 
She was softer and more slowly 
He could not make things possible 
But, she could make them holy 

Well, she gave him a daughter 
And she gave him a son 
She was a mother, and a wife, 
And a lover when the day was done 
He was too far gone for giving love 
What he offered in its stead 
Was the knowledge she was the only thing 
That was not in his head 

He took off East one morning 
Towards the rising sun's red glow 
She knew he was going nowhere 
But of course she let him go 
And as she stood and watched him dwindle 
Much too empty to be sad 
He reappeared beside her saying, 
"You're all I've ever had" 

Oh, he was the sun burning bright and brittle 
And she was the moon shining back his light a little 
He was a shooting star 
She was softer and more slowly 
He could not make things possible 
But, she could make them holy 
Holy