Laid to the river Midsummer, I waved A ‘V’ of black swans On with hope to the grave And through Red September With skies fire-paved I begged you appear Like a thorn for the holy ones Cold was my soul Untold was the pain I faced when you left me A rose in the rain.... So I swore to the razor That never, enchained Would your dark nails of faith Be pushed through my veins again Bared on your tomb I'm a prayer

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