She’s a good, honest woman full of class and decency…it covers everything she does. And he’s a passionate man with an artistic hand, he got sick, left her a widow with no one to love. O to breathe, to breathe in the brevity of things, the finality of peaceful sleep. Oh to believe, to believe, this can all be cured with time…but you swear there’s something there to reconcile, to reconcile. Good God! If we’re not alive then you’re all we’ve got! We forgot the rain-clouds took from the sea to make their drops. Dear God! If we’re not dead then you’re all we’ve got! But my God, we’ve not the eyes to see or the feet to wash. And he was the lens I saw everything through. I looked upon her a wreck and a mother of two. And I am a bastard, I am a bastard with an awful tongue. But I was that way long before I was a fatherless son. Oh to breathe, to breathe in the finality of things, oh the brevity of peaceful sleep. Oh to believe, to believe this can all be cured with time. And you swear…you swear there’s something there to reconcile! But I don’t see it… You said death is a broken seed and it gives birth to a living tree. Your banner over her, over me, is love. And if he transcends all the above, when do you restore us? Good God! If we’re not alive then you’re all we’ve got. We forgot the rain-clouds took from the sea to make their drops. Oh God, if we not, if we aren’t dead then you’re all we’ve got. Oh God, we don’t have eyes to see or any feet to wash.