|
Don't cry, my love, don't cry no more |
|
A crashing sky, a roaring screen |
|
A city drowning, God's black tears |
|
I cannot bear to see |
|
She lay under the midnight moon |
|
Her restless body stirring |
|
Until the magic morning hour |
|
Like poison it succumbs her |
|
Her baby skin, her old black dress |
|
Her hair it twists 'round her necklace |
|
Constricts and chokes like ruthless vines |
|
'Til sleep, she overtakes her |
|
Her room is painted heron blue |
|
Lit by candlelight and chandelier |
|
And from her headboard, perched so high |
|
A million dreams have passed her |
|
Don't cry, my love, don't cry no more |
|
It overwhelms my breaking heart |
|
A minor swell of violins |
|
I cannot bear to hear them |
|
A mother shepherds her young birds |
|
She fills their mouths and warms their souls |
|
'Til they are strong and good to fly |
|
Away from her, alone she'll die |
|
Cradle on quiet old oak limbs |
|
As heaven blue her light fails |
|
A breath of soot into her lungs |
|
A life, a journey's end in one |
|
Don't sing that old sad hymn no more |
|
It resonates inside my soul |
|
It haunts me in my waking dream |
|
I cannot bear to hear it |
|
Don't play those violins no more |
|
Their melancholic overtones |
|
They echo off the floor and walls |
|
I cannot bear to hear them |