There Is A Sacred, Secret Line In

Now No One Will Listen To Songs. The Prophesied Days Have Begun. Latest Poem Of Mine, The World Has Lost Its Wonder, Don't Break My Heart, Don't Ring Out.

Wild Honey Smells Of Freedom The Dust - Of Sunlight The Mouth Of A Young Girl, Like A Violet But Gold - Smells Of Nothing.

Who Will Grieve For This Woman? Does She Not Seem Too Insignificant For Our Concern? Yet In My Heart I Never Will Deny Her, Who Suffered Death Because She Chose To Turn.

Let Whoever Wants To, Relax In The South, And Bask In The Garden Of Paradise. Here Is The Essence Of North—and It's Autumn I've Chosen As This Year's Friend.

You Will Hear Thunder And Remember Me, And Think: She Wanted Storms.