| [01:52.220] |
Oh, I the wetly weak claw, led by his strong warm paw |
| [02:04.140] |
walking the forbidden path |
| [02:11.040] |
through high uncut summer grass |
| [02:16.170] |
while hunters nose dive, membranes servants to their flight |
| [02:28.480] |
were buzzing all around our heads black parasol, balance and shades |
| [02:53.220] |
Those little bells on my fool's cap |
| [02:59.250] |
all witness to my sad defect |
| [03:05.600] |
crowning my pale seriousness, in most ridiculous distress |
| [03:17.720] |
The smile on his weather-tanned face |
| [03:23.880] |
his white teeth somewhat out of place |
| [03:30.030] |
the gentle roughness of his hands |
| [03:36.720] |
dark soil staining his fingernails |
| [04:44.980] |
Ushered into the forest's hold |
| [04:49.370] |
I'm folding up my parasol |
| [04:54.630] |
heralding fears of deprivation |
| [04:59.590] |
in answer to my hesitation |
| [05:04.170] |
he's parting the branches as we move |
| [05:08.660] |
I dare a smile in shy excuse |
| [05:13.310] |
Oh does he know the ghosts I drag |
| [05:18.170] |
the dreadful ending I expect? |
| [05:23.300] |
The boyish hand of this olden maid, hints secrets, guarded by her face |
| [06:06.360] |
Does your world know my shadow's near, |
| [06:11.680] |
the loop of time I always fear? |
| [06:20.490] |
The fact that I carelessly stepped into my very own, dark trap? |
| [06:49.060] |
You stride, I'm glancing at your belt ... |
| [06:53.860] |
should I miss any of the things I never felt? |
| [07:02.770] |
The shaking hand of this olden maid |
| [07:04.450] |
dark soil staining his fingernails |
| [07:08.930] |
instead waters the flowers on her ancient grave. |
