Fantine...

I dreamed a dream in time gone by,
When hope was high and life, worth living.
I dreamed that love would never die,
I dreamed that God would be forgiving.
Then I was young and unafraid,
And dreams were made and used and wasted.
There was no ransom to be paid,
No song unsung, no wine, untasted.

But the tigers come at night,
With their voices soft as thunder,
As they tear your hope apart,
And they turn your dream to shame.

He slept a summer by my side,
He filled my days with endless wonder...
He took my childhood in his stride,
But he was gone when autumn came!

And still I dream he will come to me,
That we will live the years together,
But there are dreams that cannot be,
And there are storms we cannot weather!