take me to the river
make a flow bed to lie on
whisper what's i will remember
through all these of dust in cold

my love is a sailor
and i don't think, i don't think
i'll ever meet him again
make a boats of lilith in
which to flowed through the thinner

take me to the cemetery
i see this grave among
the whispers in the trees
i see his blood in the water
 [bad word] through the there's over

i see inside in the all's eyes
his hand it's glowing with the rose
his fingers [bad word] forests
and his blows the white heels

his heart is piercing with the west went
his soul is with the river under knees
i'll make a boat of flowers
i'll find his birth 
i'll take him home
i'll take him home

no matter when 
i'll take him home