Just like oil on canvass
Touch of red, mostly black
Thick are the air and the fog that hide her from you

Weeps shadow
Cries sparkle
She sleeps, she sleeps

Once in time, there she was,
Standing by the willow tree,
Longing for an old feeling, being his

Now she is like a torn flower,
Alone

Among the trees, and underneath the leaves,
There is her last home, she lies there all alone