Your heart lies among the primroses
Taken swiftly by swift hands.
Wash out the colours of a lifetime,
And watch you flounder in sweet remorse.
Do not question the sun in his sky
Inquisition was the arrow that shot this bird down.
But it is not his fault, and he will pity you
For come the morn', your eyes will be as red as the blood he shed himself.
Innocence; so meek in your gracious love.
What no other seem' is the broken bones of
Those who fell, amiable in trust
I don't know how to tell the moon he's lost his lover.
Condescend the world and his convivial hostess
For she is the infinite paradox
On the borderline of hell.
It is cruel; watch her suffer
Until the evening sweeps her away.
