Oh honey, you plagiarize strokes of dead legends
But thats just because deep with in you are of them
You do things only you could do, which make my mind bend
but then again its you who I always think of with wisdom.
You greatly seperate yourself from those and what is not
Like a golden God is not a calf but a dying fruit is rot.
You question my movement and intention
but see through all the rest into what I am truly.
You know the fires of my ***** burn for your desire
and that this beacon I am streaming is made only for one.
You know that the winds of my plains scream one name
they only scream one name....
And its you, love of a thousand lives
Oh its you, Love like this never dies.
