I am yours, and I have had enough
The strawberry Fields are now black
Like the yellow sun in a solar eclipse
What men do in love
Do wrong in marriage
Like so many women make love and celebrate it
In the cathedral, everyone comes and goes
So do friends and foes
Where are the women now, now the world turns in reverse
Little by little, we might make better days
When the alcoholics stop falling through puddles
And understand the ripples of time cannot be seen only made

Years have gone
It would be fun
If it didn't end all in just one day of divine romance
Where creation and maintenance falter
Deep purple of fruits lurch into drifting purple haze
Yellow dandelions turn white and fly like cotton seeds
And sunflowers turn to the Sun, to be yellowy ash
Because I do not hope to turn
Not tomorrow nor today
As I desire that man's story
And that man's destiny
Never looking at my past
I will finally have mortgaged my soul
Where spring shall never come to the world
The judgement of man is in his esteem
And his prestige in his distinction
"We are on the verge of extinction"
Singing among the nightingales