Dreaming dreaming
of falling of drops
humble humming
of honey and rocks

Hands throbbing
in joy and despair
Flying clinging
journey through air
meeting twisting
in love and despair

But in that love
I feel a sudden thorn
by which I am completely
swept away
Around in circles
in the clouds above
the passion I have always
known somehow

Be gentle
on that rare and lonely flight
Don´t lose your senses
hold on tight
Real love can grow
but passion burns so lovely
and so quick´
You are to burn
to burn and reek
and die alone

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