See the wide fields of golden scorn
Where no man knows where he travels or goes.
Clouds are burning, the sea is too
She whispers to me, My love, is for you.

Night is too long to see the other side.
All we can do is go along for the ride.
A breaking horizon neath' a lost celestial tune
She whispers deep, My love, is for you.

Tainted silhouettes behind a rusted mirror.
Children hold out their hands, asking angels to come nearer.
You rub your eyes, so you can see you,
And when you do, she whispers, "My love, is for you."

Life is a gradual acceptance of a fate you never asked for.
A prayer becomes a whisper in this God forsaken heat.
A note to survive becomes the pride of an ego in limbo.
She whispers for me, My love, is for you.

Up on the hillside, lay planted a field of poppies.
Echoing joyous screams of  Stop it, stop it, stop it!
Take me now or take me in coup,
She whispers crying, My love, is for you.

At least the fine edge of a knife is always kissed,
Just like the other from a party who's never missed.
I tell to the other who tells me to prove,
That a tell from she sounds like, My love, is for you.

Cradle me backwards, tell me a name.
All these faces here, they all seem the same.
I'm not here for confessional, I don't fit in this pew,
She tells me coldly after, My love, is for you.

I forget the sounds we used to make
Near the railroad tracks, sipping on wine, chewing on steaks.
Your hair was so ***** then, the sky so blue,
Your eyes telling me, My love, is for you.

Riverbed of red with still tears trickle through
A breath so short, like death death was teasing you.
I got along. I saw to it. I fell too.
But I remember when you'd say, *My love, is for you.