Lead to the river
Midsummer, I waved
"V" of black swans
On with hope to the grave
And though Red September
With skies fire-paved
I begged you appear
Like a thorn for the holy ones

Cold was my soul
Untold was the pain
I faced when you left me
rose in the rain....
So I swore to the razor
That never, enchained
Would your dark nails of faith
Be pushed through my veins again

Bared on your tomb
I'm a prayer for your loneliness
And would you ever soon [bad word] above unto me?
For once upon a time
From the binds of your lowliness
I could always find
The right slot for your sacred key...

Fold to my arms
Hold their mesmeric away
And dance out to the moon
As we did in those golden days

Christening stars
I remember the way
We were needle and spoon
Mislaid in the burning hay

Bared on your tomb
I'm a prayer for your loneliness
And would you ever soon [bad word] above unto me?
For once upon a time
From the bind of your holiness
I could always find the right slot for your sacred key