2003-04-20 - 12:46 p.m.
Serenade
My ears grow weary of
the siren call of suicide
Yet I find little relief
No womb in which to hide
Warm like cotton on my skin
comes your gentle serenade
I don't even hear the lyrics
Just the deep peace now displayed Nothing's as important
as this melody divine
Please don't thank me for this moment
The pleasure's been all mine Such a gift you're given
Yet others refuse to hear
You tell me I must be special
I've only used my ears
I am no longer alone here
The serenade, my company
A heartbeat provides its rythm
Is that you or me? Nothing's as important
as this melody divine
Please don't thank me for this moment
The pleasure's been all mine In this sweet lullaby
the wind-swept bough shall never break
If indeed I'm sleeping
then may I never wake
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