Banished from your bed, no more I’ll weep.
Your love for me is gone and now’s my cue
for cryogenic hibernation’s sleep,
programmed to wake me in an age or two.
I’ve set the parameters to leave me be
until another girl like you grows tall.
O, she’ll be wondrous and she’ll number me
among the men she keeps at beck and call.
And those same parameters will recognise
only that lady I will most desire,
who has your beauty and your lovely eyes
which cool my soul, yet set it so on fire.