Of which they sang
Of which they told
stole thy nights and days
once I felt your face
once I felt your tongues
once I maybe said words everlasting
Desolate nights spill disgust, feigned travels tire
Which King of Men is the master of his will?
Which Philosopher is the master of his love?
Not one! (x4)
Thy smiles break
Thy wain arm loosened
Days gone ajar
Nights scratchin on windows
If one dared to hear
One heard the dark speak no more
words of comfort
The cut of a look sharper, furnace of embrace deeper
Which builder of covenants is master of the faith?
Which skimmer of skies is the center of heavens?
Not one! (x4)