The moon that rose now descended,
And the love one shared now had ended,
And soon the day [bad word] 
And when the day [bad word]  the light that fell at dawn was cold--
the warmth of you had gone,
taste of loneliness cut through the earliness and oh,
the wind sang of you, softly they said,
All my fav'rite dreams were dead,
Leaving a cloud of sadness in my head
And though I'm buried in a sad song of the morning wind,
I know the day would bring another song for me to sing,
But when the day [bad word]  the light that fell at dawn was cold--
the warmth of you was gone.