lyric

dead

poor child

the willow

does wave

all the while

through

dark

is the night

soft

is my sight

slight airy whispers

do sometimes

grant me some light

the wheel

is spinning

the lust

just ending

in the field

leaves are just now turning brown

however your playing

winning or losing

the way you are choosing

light still found

snoozing and stirring curtains

gives dread

eitheir way the moon rising

the day hypnotising

the blood of a mans old sunset

simple

abusing

grinning and choosing

a frown

either way

hes now dead