Whisper my name in the brambling bush.
How do you know what this means?
Oh mother, oh father, there is no need to rush.
Take my hand, walk with me, can't we just wipe this slate clean?

Push her ahead through the forest anew,
dancing so idly by.
fill her head with visions rotten, depressed, and blue.
Hold her hair, douse her skin, and let her soul solemnly sigh.