certain wishes in my heart ask to die
but I hate to crush such beautiful wishes
crystal prisms of lovely antique thoughts  
I still tell myself as bedtime stories
I pull them across my glassy eyes like curtains
stepping into dreamland upon the clouds of fatal fantasies
Oh, how they begin to plead for death
They desperately long for me to move on
To wishes I am proud to speak at dawn
Goodbye, sweet relics
Goodnight