It's clear as tattoos on your eyes: 
a story not heard in the bright palace light 
can only be told as a secret of night. 
The girl in the garden and I 

From a Knife to a Lantern and back, back again, 
she closes her eyes and weaves wonders. 
They hang in the air, hold my breath like a hunter. 
The girl in the garden and I 

The stars in their courses [bad word] 
and bring their hearts earthward to hear her. 
The boughs of the [bad word] trees bend nearer 
to the girl in the garden... 

The fear holds us both in its hand. 
With every tale on my ear, [bad word] nearer the shore. 
We both dread the day when the words fall away... 
and a demon will judge her. 
Then I fear that my dear will be gone. 
Shed a tear for the girl in the garden, 
for all of her years in the garden, 
the girl in the garden and I.