I've seen you sat on that seat;
Next to the old oak tree...

Night's yielding touch.
Scented with spice...

Once, you and me, we were close.
Just a platonic boy-girl friendship...

Stalking under a full moon.
A huntress of the night...

Once so close, inseparable.
Now so distant...

Dormant all these months.
Quiet in redemption...

You ask me why I'm not hung up on
You...

Blistering heat searing through
My heart...

Tired of listening to your lies.
They pour out like a poison...

Lips like a bloodied rose.
Cut open and spilled across the Grass...

Wings outspread, like great black Thunder clouds.
Contrasting with the deep plum Satin of her dress...

Love is the fear in the first date.
Love is bunch of flowers in your hands...