I look through the earth,
through all of the mud
through people with machines
who go deep into crud
and haul up more black
than can ever be found
on the face of the earth
at least where I'm 'round
but in all of the blackness
i have but one wish
that someone would be there,
hear i, a skirt swish
as she walks toward me,
calling my name
this beautiful creature,
be she really a dame?
someone of this earth,
but pray i, of heaven too?
oh tell me tis not false
please tell me it's true!
Tell me she's mine, and I'll see her one day
tell me she wants me, that I'm hers i pray
for did not you say, isn't good t'be alone
then remedy my happ'nings,
take from my chest this stone,
that's replaced my heart, and so cold does it feel
like a piece of blue-blackness, not even real
and weighted as such, I'll live my life through
i don't ask too much, but listen yes, do
though wish it i, I'll never hear,
the words and wants of my own Guenevere
