106 If I could live to be a hundred and six, or to fly weightless in the skies of blue, I guess I could wander around the world: what would I gain if only to lose you? If I could live to be a hundred and eight, or to howl like the wind across the lonely mile, I guess I could climb breathless into the stars: what beauty would I gain if only to lose your smile? Why would I set out to climb a mountain, or sail the seven seas, when everything I could ever want is right here in front of me? No, I could live to be a hundred and ten, seize the power and wisdom of a thousand men, but what would I gain, if only to lose the moments that I now spend with you?