The gods have been hard on us Rough days for both of us Now I'm tip toeing in fuzzy socks Staying quiet so the monster won't wake up He wears the clothes that I'm wearing Has a voice like wool when he talks to me softly (Softly, is this really the last time we touch? If only I knew that it meant so much to you) So pure in candlelight Haven't seen him since the day I lied No I'm sorting grains and stealing things Might as well keep going until the day I die All the others are staring And I'm hiding behind my mountains Crying fountains The water's as black as coal As I knock on Proserpina's door Go on take the things you like Won't be much left of me anyway after tonight I'm cold sweating I hope this is enough, oh God If only I could hold on to this box of mine This box is so fine No lock, I'll try To open up and maybe I can find some sign That he's around That he's on time Now I could use some of his wool to lay on