It is the essence of wounds When Morpheus neglects me It is the bittersweet moon Against your face it won’t protect me And when I stumble off your trail The illusion gently fades That your innocence prevail That I will recognise it one day And this voice inside my head That comes to me at night It keeps telling me you are dead Although I know you’ll never die And these words I’ve always known Seem so hard to face alone When you tell me that I will find What you tell me that I will know