| In the morning mist by the waning moon | |
| Through the woods she set on foot | |
| With a sacred blade cut the berries down | |
| Dug up the dreaded mandrake root | |
| Tread my path to summer's end"This bequest I leave you", she says | |
| You will see what could be evergreen | |
| Turn to copper and fade to gray | |
| By the standing stones | |
| Atropine eyes smiled at me | |
| Sitting in a sluggish vertigo | |
| Sands of time form another dream | |
| No love without sacrifice | |
| No liege springs without decay | |
| The final kiss is a wormy one | |
| In soils cold caress to rest we'll lay, to rest we'll lay | |
| Tread my path to summer's end"This bequest I leave you", she says | |
| You will see what could be evergreen | |
| Turn to copper and fade to gray |
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