|
|
|
|
Life freezes over when silence reigns the night
and darkness fills the day
Flying...my sun is your moon
As brushed black hair is walking
through snow-white fields
Behold thy life in me
Did He who made the Lamb make thee?
Winds breathing colder and eyes all full of fright
frigidity's astray
Hunting...my night is your day
While snow-white hair is flying
through dark black woods
Behold my life in thee
Did He smile His work to see?
Chorus
Icy I see I see me
In you am I
eye see eyes
I see flies
around thighs around me
Icy tie's
around me around you
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
thorough the iron gates of life
and your quaint honour turn to dust
and into ashes all my lust
the grave's a fine and private place
but none, I think, do there embrace
Chorus
(With excerpts from William Blake's "The Tyger" and Andrew Marvell's "To His Coy Mistress")
HATA BİLDİR
|
|
|
|
Yorum Yapın