Melancholy bliss are your breaths,
Romances a heart straight to exile
Leaving only your desolation,
Death ain’t got a dime on you.

The salesman of disillusions
Happily shredding logic
Greedily you give all we loath

To observe,
An impending demise
As grace gives way on your grasp

Effortlessly Collecting pearls
Coming afloat our seas,
For your own vanity.

Melancholy bliss are your breaths,
Romances a heart straight to exile
Leaving only your desolation,
Death ain’t got a dime on you.