With a golden dish in my right hand I came to get my fill Of honeysuckle pleasures On hidden vines There waiting for my tender touch Sweetness I did find Under the marble steps Of my will
That old cunning devil flew right by me My conscious saw him first A shift of black Lifting up in airy flight Yet still I sought out my reward Though his face I could see My dish, would be filled That night
I thought of waiting for my pleasure Then in a lullaby I rehearsed I convinced myself to reach out anyway As I came to get my fill Of all those hidden treasures So I sang my song And put my conscious In reverse
With a golden dish in my right hand A shift of black in my heart I partook of those honeysuckle pleasures Yet no sweetness did I find In those hidden vines When from my own will I did depart