Black Hair

You'll never see your sorrows healing.
The rosary flowed fast over your hands.
You'll never light your candles again.
The rosary flowed fast over your hands.
You'll never feel your soft black hair.
The rosary flowed fast over your hands.
You'll feel the fire burning your eyes and your bones.
The rosary flowed fast over your hands.
You just would let him carrying you away, rocking you in his arms, asking you to be of his.