His bright eyes burned in mine:
I took him for Lazarus,
And though he did not speak
He claimed me as a brother;
To walk with him in his abyss,
Just lately dreamed,
Where his bright eyes in mine
Did burn.
(Oh though I walk)

He took my hand so I could feel
Such sickness he had known;
I heard one heartsick song,
Sensed I knew every note,
Each drone, each semitone,
That drew all sickness out.
(Oh comfort me)

His hand in mine did shake,
Or mine in his
His bright eyes burned:
To say, if truth may come to pass,
No truth may covet such abyss.