Days like these, oh lord please!
Come home to me,
Set me free, it's all thee'
You sent me a spree,
Thought it's seed
Bloom but it' bleeds,
Red as my heart
Tasteless as love,
Epicure like dove
Against all and above,
We of the divine curve
Gently calling it night,
Dream of me, with all of your might,
Unless God blesses me with her sight
I guess till then I'm blue,
But it's all white.