Wool

The gods has been hard on us
Rough days for both of us
Now I'm tip toeing in fuzzy socks
Staying quiet so the monster won't wake up

He wears the clothes that I'm wearing
Has a voice like wool when he talks to me softly
(Softly, is this really the last time we touch?
If only I knew that it meant so much to you)

So pure in candlelight
Haven't seen him since the day I lied
No I'm sorting grains and stealing things
Might as well keep going until the day I die

All the others are staring
And I'm hiding behind my mountains
Crying fountains

The water's as black as coal
As I knock on Proserpina's door
Go on take the things you like
Won't be much left of me anyway after tonight

I'm cold sweating
I hope this is enough, oh God

If only I could hold on to this box of mine
This box is so fine
No lock, I'll try
To open up and maybe I can find some sign
That he's around
That he's on time

Now I could use some of his wool to lay on