Sweet little words made for silence
Not so young, heartfelt love not heartache
Dark hair fall, catch in the wind
Light the way, the sight of a cold world
While your lips are still red
While he’s still in silent rest
A bosom is still untouched
Unveiled on another hair
While the hand’s still without a tool
Drown into eyes while they’re still blind
Love while the night still hides the withering dawn
First day of love never comes back
Compassion, its power’s never a wasted wrong
The violin, the poet’s hand
Every thawing heart plays your theme wïth care…


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