Sparrow

I love a man, whose love is violence;
 Who always comes, who goes away.
 Who never brings me any flowers
 To blossom in my blazing shade.
 And all of his weak-heart love is lonely; our love is running out of breath.
 When I wake, you cannot know me;
 When I sleep, I dream of death.
 Wire, Cradle, Cross and Arrow;
 Mother's milk or Crone's Rage.
 Mouths like Wolves, we dine like Sparrows;
 There is grace in great restraint.
 And all of his weak-heart love is lonely; our love is running out of breath
 When I wake, you cannot know me;
 When I sleep, I dream of death.
 And I could not help but leave and wonder,
 What spirit steals your awful head.
 and I am grateful for your candor;
 I could not love a better man.
 'Cause all of his weak-heart love is lonely; our love is running out of breath
 When I wake, you cannot know me;
 When I sleep, I dream of death."