Sweet little wilds makes the silence
too young heart to love, not heartache
Dark hair fall
Catch in the wind
Light the way, the sight of a cold world

Kiss,
While your lips are still red
While he’s still silent rest
While bosom is still untouched
Unveiled for another hand
While the hands still without a tool
Drown into eyes while they’re still blind
Love while the night still hides the withering dawn

First day of love [bad word] back [bad word] 
tower is never wasted wrong
The violin, the poets tale
Every thowing heart plays a theme with care

Kiss,
While your lips are still red
While he’s still silent rest
While bosom is still untouched
Unveiled for another hand
While the hands still without a tool
Drown into eyes while they’re still blind
Love while the night still hides the withering dawn