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Don't waste your lips on words I've heard before |
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Kiss my tired head. |
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And each letter written wastes your hand, young man |
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Come and lead me to your bed |
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You gave me hope that I'd not lost her |
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And then thought it rather strange to see me smile- |
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as I don't do too much smiling these days. |
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She put on happiness like a loose dress |
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Over pain I'll never know |
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"So the peace you had," she said, |
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"I must confess, I'm glad to see it go." |
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We're two white roses lying frozen just outside his door |
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I've made you so happy and so sad, |
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But which should I be more sorry for? |
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Come kiss my face goodbye, |
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that space below my eye and above my cheek |
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Cause I'm faint and fading fast, I see a darkness |
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And I shall be released. |
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I'll pass like a fever from this body, |
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And softly slip into his hands |
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I tried to love you and I failed, |
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But I have another plan. |
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How long, My Lord, how long to sing this song? |
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And my Lord, how much more of this pretending to be strong? |
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When she stands before your throne |
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Dressed in beauty not her own |
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All soft and small, you'll hear her call, |
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"You brought me here, now take me home." |
