Matters of Scale

I could claim that I would walk
A thousand miles to see your face;
But you would know it was just talk:
My legs could not keep up the pace.
I could say I'd grab the moon
And bring it down for you to hold;
But you'd remember ere you'd swoon
The moon's too big, too far, too cold.
I could declare I'd hold you tight
And never, ever let you go;
But you would think, and you'd be right,
Life might be inconvenient so.
So I'll just say: I've done before
What pleased you, and I'll do so more.