To the girl among nightwatchmen
My other, my joy
With your [bad word] fire
You were my gentle unfolding
The wool and the dye
The needle and eye

These songs you sing
as you waltz her up the stairs
And the boy smiles
at the wheels of the chair
We are loved for these
things that pass us by
All we're good for

As the sand flows into the hourglass
You hold every grain
That it might remain
Part of me wants to see you [bad word] 
Like those toys on a plinth
Pool of alabaster limbs

Into my arms,
so that I might have my place
Although the [bad word] may just
serve to dull the only blade
That you brought to this fight
Let's go another round
Let's go another round

To the girl among nightwatchmen
The long fingers of morning
Will take you by the hand
Precious stones,
they're all spoken for
You've chosen the tunes,
Everything is just so, just so

And now birdsong,
ice clinking in the sun
Dripfeed
Of gentle talk
and pleasantries
And I wait for a gap in the traffic
To tell her I'll always hold you close
It's all I'm good for