This is the sound of poisons
The sickness no one knows
No one is crying for us this time
Our shapes are blurring under miracles of snow
Weave a circle round him three times
You have to plan your moves at these times
Our hearts are breaking
One more song to go
These eyes are blind
This is a pure thing
These hands I kiss
Tragic as anything
These eyes are blind
This is a pure thing
All splash and hiss
Beyond my measuring.
