He deals the cards as a meditation,

And those he plays never suspect.
He doesn't play for the money he wins,
He doesn't play for respect.
He deals the cards to find the answer,
The sacred geometry of chance,
The hidden law of a probable outcome -
The numbers lead a dance.

I know that the spades are swords of a soldier,
I know that the clubs are weapons of war,
I know that diamonds mean money for this art,
But that's not the shape of my heart.

He may play the jack of diamonds,
He may lay the queen of spades,
He may conceal a king in his hand,
While the memory of it fades.

And if I told you that I loved you,
You'd maybe think there's something wrong.
I'm not a man of too many faces -
The mask I wear is one.
Those who speak know nothing
And find out to their cost
Like those who curse their luck in too many places
And those who fear are lost.

I know that the spades are swords of a soldier,
I know that the clubs are weapons of war,
I know that diamonds mean money for this art,
But that's not the shape of my heart.

Gordon Matthew Thomas Sumner
"Shape of My Heart"
1993

In Europe and America,

There's a growing feeling of hysteria,
Conditioned to respond to all the threats
In the rhetorical speeches of the Soviets.
Mr. Krushchev said, we will bury you -
I don't subscribe to this point of view.
It would be such an ignorant thing to do,
If the Russians love their children, too.

How can I save my little boy
From Oppenheimer's deadly toy?
There is no monopoly in common sense
On either side of the political fence.
We share the same biology,
Regardless of ideology.
Believe me when I say to you -
I hope, the Russians love their children, too.

There is no historical precedent
To put the words in the mouth of the President.
There's no such thing as a winnable war -
It's a lie we don't believe anymore.
Mr. Reagan says, we will protect you -
I don't subscribe to this point of view.
Believe me when I say to you -
I hope, the Russians love their children, too.

We share the same biology,
Regardless of ideology.
What might save us - me, and you,
Is if the Russians love their children, too.

Gordon Matthew Thomas Sumner aka Sting
"Russians"
1985

Every breath you take,

Every move you make,
Every bond you break,
Every step you take -
I'll be watching you.

Every single day,
Every word you say,
Every game you play,
Every night you stay -
I'll be watching you.

Oh, can't you see -
You belong to me.
How my poor heart aches
With every step you take,

Every move you make,
Every vow you break,
Every smile you fake,
Every claim you stake -
I'll be watching you

Since you've gone, I've been lost without a trace.
I dream at night - I can only see your face.
I look around but it's you I can't replace.
I feel so cold and I long for your embrace.
I keep crying baby, baby, please...

Oh, can't you see -
You belong to me.
How my poor heart aches
With every breath you take!

Every move you make,
Every vow you break,
Every smile you fake,
Every claim you stake -
I'll be watching you.

Every move you make,
Every step you take -
I'll be watching you...

Gordon Sumner
(Sting)
1983

A thousand years, a thousand more,

A thousand times a million doors to eternity.
I may have lived a thousand lives, a thousand times
An endless turning stairway climbs
To a tower of souls.
If it takes another thousand years, a thousand wars,
The towers rise to numberless floors in space.
I could shed another million tears, a million breaths,
A million names but only one truth to face.

A million roads, a million fears
A million suns, ten million years of uncertainty.
I could speak a million lies, a million songs,
A million rights, a million wrongs in this balance of time
But if there was a single truth, a single light
A single thought, a singular touch of grace
Then following this single point, this single flame,
The single haunted memory of your face -

I still love you...
I still want you...
A thousand times the mysteries unfold themselves,
Like galaxies in my head.

I may be numberless, I may be innocent,
I may know many things, I may be ignorant,
Or I could ride with kings and conquer many lands,
Or win this world at cards and let it slip my hands.
I could be cannon food, destroyed a thousand times,
Reborn as fortune’s child to judge another’s crimes,
Or wear this pilgrim’s cloak, or be a common thief -
I’ve kept this single faith, I have but one belief:

I still love you...
I still want you...
A thousand times the mysteries unfold themselves,
Like galaxies in my head.
On and on the mysteries unwind themselves,
Eternities still unsaid
’til you love me...

Sting
2001