Wrapped All In Woe ['To Mourn Is A Virtue' LP Version]
Tearful against empty heavens I again bow to this soil and weep As a mute mess of clouds crumbles the light Roses of blood, come and dwindle
These watery eyes from where the tears do fall The wounds which no tool can erase Minutes long for hours Hours yearn for days But this night everything is forgotten
Give me your hand, and my heart is in that hand Like yearning did tremble a dream of affection I bear
O heart be filled with this trembling desire All these wounds collected during years in despair
Give me your hand, and my heart is in that hand This infinite gnawing pain I have yet to survive