The kettle's on, the sun has gone, another day
She offers me, Tibetan tea, on a flower tray
She's at the door, she's want's to score, she really needs to say:
"I once loved you a long time ago, you know
Where the winds own forget-me-nots blow, you know
But I couldn't let myself go
Not knowing what on earth there was to know
But I wish that I had, 'cause i'm feeling so sad
that I never had one of your children."

Across the room, inside a tomb, a chance is waxed and waned
The night is young, why are we so hung-up, in each other's chains
I must take her, I must make her, while the dove domains
See the [bad word] as she [bad word] my wings under her sighs
As the flames of eternity rise
To lick us with the first born lash of dawn
Oh really my dear, I can't see what we fear
With ourselves, sat here between us

And at the door, we can't say more, than just another day
Without a sound, I turn around, and I walk away