After the fall of every living king
Each memory a myth of what was once living
She screams ripping off her golden loom
Something her lover entrusted to her
Under a pale white hanging moon

When the trumpet calls out to the people
And the sheep have gathered inside of the steeple
Keep your eyes onto the horizon
For the sun is rising fast
The fact standing that forever cannot last

To hear truth blow through the thin green pine
As she asks guiltily if loving me is some kind of crime
I hold my head still with a steady will
Thinking there are sometimes questions with answers
Better to be told with aimless laughter

Hate is a such a simple thing
Where love can be so complex
And yet the two swirl around together
In some kind of whirlpool vortex
There has to be an answer for the two
I can't think of one, can you?

Last night someone called out to me
I heard my name out on my frozen balcony
Opening my door, my eyes cast down below
I only spotted the freshly fallen snow
Perhaps a wish from Prague telling me to go

I wear the handkerchief of melancholy
Disinterested in my burdensome folly
There's got to be something else in this life
Other than the moans and soundless cries
I release my shackles at last seeing the sky

Grass wet with the mayor's winter dew
Pinching myself so not to show a clue
The night fades into an angelic dark-blue mellow
Ceiling begins to crack, my feet turn to stone
My sins hang in the balance waiting to be atoned

Cradle my head upon your angel feathered bed
What you said to me last night struck me dead
There's nothing in this world that I wouldn't do for thee
Bound in blood, we wrote things deeper than any political decree
When you see me again, don't tell me that you still believe

My boat has shipped off, the sails in full spread
I see the thunder ahead of me, but I know I'll do well
A break in the wind, a rumbling swell
There are some things in love one can never foretell
I at last see the lies we spread are the one's we ride
Until the very day we are chosen to die

Smell Spring turn to Autumn
And Autumn turn to bitter Winter
Floating scents of burned flank steak
Cranberry sauce, a fresh bubbling creak
The wine spills and through the table it leaks
At least we tried to live in love far past its peak

There's a soldier on the hill
I stop to listen to him speak
He's talks of war, death, and inner peace
His skin ragged as he rambles with chipped teeth

I knew not true love
Before I had the chance to meet you
And if we leave one another
In the summer heat or the blooming Spring
Know that I loved you with every fiber of my plagued' being
My lungs thick with your perfume that I was breathing
Sleeping next to the warmth that could only come from you

In a whisper, I must go
To find wealth or happiness or the call of the gray crow
I must go whether you curse or trust
I hope that you can see and

Know that I loved thee
With every drop of blood within me