It’s cold tonight in Eden
A full moon is a spectral sight
An apple tree is in full bloom
In this garden where we may say our prayers
Dirt is caked under my nails
I’m tumblin' down, down, down
Eight feet, just for you my dear,
Lenore can’t so no
Not when the throes of passion
Are caught so deep
I’m restless against the stillness
Aching and grinding
Yet paradise is so cool this low