Sentimental in the way she rests her eyes
On the fray high resting moonlit tide
Corn husk hovering gold atop Her soul
I left because I was harshly told

Neither the sea nor angelic silk
Will allow me to rebuild mine guilt
To use the misfortune of a hearts impulse
Breaking the mold to lock the doors to the hearse

Heighten the mind to see past man's horizon
And she will be standing there alone
Stretch one's love through the sky
She waiting in the dress white as bone

Now with the ticking arm of times moronic clock
I wait for the hour when I'll meet her again
Static with the stasis of these limbs shivering thin
I must now wait for her touch all over again