And oh, how bright my eyes will be before the day will come to halt.
because you will never be the one you were before I came along.
So sing that song so lonely and defouled, sing to the blood of joy -
dull like sunburnt lips; crisp like words on the knife's sharp edge,
to spite the lover's un-intention.



So cry from the soul, you lost and reproached, cry to the heaven's singing.
And feel the pain of the gravel on sole, shining is the stained and bleeding.
I'll hold your hand, that's all I'll do, too harsh is the sun's prior beating -
and the earth is left with oudor of rot; but still I'll calm your being.
I'll rest my face upon your chest, and wish for more than asked.
I'll break the currents of the wind to reach for nature's lust
so that you, my darl, shall fall on grass, no more on rocks you thread,
no more of wandering off to sea, for your hunger shall be fed.



O, broken is the glass in which I lay my left and right.
you'll know before the day,
you'll know,
you'll know.