When nights are cold and all is dead
there oft is fear upon my head.
Afore me lie infinite leagues
through worlds of all both great and small
across a sea of human greeds.
My sojourn's end I cannot see
through lifeless worlds of human greed
but I can hope that it will be
a place that's home for love indeed.
My love she falls through deep dark pits
and gains first sight of human wits.
There she confides in newfound guides.
My love is gone for she has died.
Her soul's not there at our bedside.
But I rejoice in all this deal,
for I see now it was not real.
Twas in the night I saw her die
and now I know it's all a lie.
They were her hands that did redeem
my mind from strongly crying dreams.