when my blind darkness opens up
and the thorns in the slums giggle
a secret slips, crying, from your lips
life stops and the universe grows between us
I’m left staring at your blonde hair, I leave
I can’t know your pain, but I still love you, I love you
I’m a poor traveller across your desert, pain in my heart
I sleep as I curse my inn-keeper, I curse
love becomes the nightingale,
but this, this is not that rose
which eye, so far, has seen the right without a struggle
the day dawns, however dark it may be
how can I become we if I don’t seek myself
this is love, the wise know, if you dare to seek it
I’m left staring at your blonde hair, I leave
I have no idea of the pain it will cause, and I love, I love
I’m a poor traveller across your desert, pain in my heart
I sleep as I curse my inn-keeper, I curse
love becomes the nightingale,
but this, this is not that rose