Hyacinth lighting virgin breathing in your ear She says you’ve gone and hurt her turned her pure-white body clear Shiver through the open window the streetcars rumble by You long for your winter lady not this stranger by your side not this stranger by your side
The morning air does compel you to float down the spiral stairs Spanish-blue stockings yawning and the ashes in the air Oh Captain, you ask yourself I miss her of the raven-hair what future did you behold when you stole me away from there when you stole me away from there
She of the bloom and frost of cucumber and olive oil She of the spring I’ve lost to the song of the nightingale Well, the penitent man will be forgiven but the black-hearted will rot So oh golden king forgive me for not being what I’m not for not being what I’m not
The captain says he won’t answer from his throne of light and pearls Your grotesque, shrouded body that you loath and you love is just an accident that only you can bear You’re invisible and as wild as the sea and you hurt what you hold most dear You’re the traitor, and you are me You’re the traitor, and you are me You’re the traitor, and you are me You are the traitor, and I am thee