I can almost see the shimmering faerie as I recline on moss
But there isn't enough primrose
There are only wishes in a hidden forest
I can almost see ghosts as I shiver on icy floorboards
But Amelia is asleep in winter
There are only prayers in a secret house
♪
I was lost by the wayside
Amidst the groans of a tired time
There is nothing for me here
♪
The tales of the flute by the fire
A stroll through a sombre evening
Smoke enticing from their pipes, pipes
And the honourable visions of a pulseless mind
Death comes in an instant, if you like
But Amelia may be waking soon
When I sleep, I can't pull myself away yet
But I know there are mansions out there
Maybe on Saturn, or Mars, or Mercury, or Luna
Maybe on Saturn, or Mars, or Mercury, or Luna
♪
Maybe this is a clue
♪
Maybe this is a clue
I'd never been washed ashore, or seen the droll night before
My body vanished, I hovered in the concourse
Of the court of thousands of yellow asphodel
It hurts remembering the fragance of Heaven
♪
We lived in the rowans, avoiding mad water
Spoiling our children with tea and mushrooms
Early in the autumn, as we slept by the oven
Someone sent a shape who tore the house apart
Our bond shattered
I was drawn away
♪
I was caught praying in the shade
♪
Recently, I went back to my door, and breathed
It was love filtered through yellow paraffin
We pushed with all our might, for you