Oh honey, you plagiarize strokes of dead legends But thats just because deep with in you are of them You do things only you could do, which make my mind bend but then again its you who I always think of with wisdom.
You greatly seperate yourself from those and what is not Like a golden God is not a calf but a dying fruit is rot. You question my movement and intention but see through all the rest into what I am truly.
You know the fires of my ***** burn for your desire and that this beacon I am streaming is made only for one. You know that the winds of my plains scream one name they only scream one name....
And its you, love of a thousand lives Oh its you, Love like this never dies.