It's not the tree that forsakes the flower
But the flower that forsakes the tree
Someday I'll learn to love these scars
Still fresh from the red-hot blade of your words
First day of lovenever comes back,
A passionate hour's never a wasted one.
The violin, the poet's hand,
Every thawing heart plays your theme with care.
You are my path, my home, my star,
A beautiful tale within the tale.
And when the dust needs to move on,
I will tuck us in on a bed of snow,
Painting white, silencing the valley we built, Together we'll sleep devoured by life.
Don't give me love, don't give me faith Wisdom nor pride, give innocence instead
Don't give me love, I've had my share Beauty nor rest, give me truth instead