| I crossed into Europe
|
| With the same urgent dreams of home
|
| I soaked my skin in the wine of sin
|
| Under the fountains of Rome
|
| Saw through all the feigned bravery
|
| And your love was but a sadness
|
| Coming over me
|
| And with a fearless heart
|
| I fell apart
|
| Who will join me in this solitude now?
|
| Is my penance over?
|
| From the red dungeons of Naples
|
| To the white cliffs of Dover
|
| I will lay and I’ll betray
|
| For I pine for what is mine
|
| I was made for decay
|
| I turn wine into brine
|
| I’m the sacrifice of spring
|
| As seen though the dead mayfly’s wing
|
| I’m the ideal soon sparkles
|
| A beauty turned to harshness
|
| And I’ll reap
|
| But now all my anger
|
| Lies scattered within me
|
| How to father the new race?
|
| You threw it at me like stones
|
| All this praise
|
| And just like me you were taking
|
| As much pleasure
|
| In making this promise
|
| As in breaking it
|
| Just a little later
|
| Who will join me in this solitude now?
|
| Is my penance over?
|
| From the red dungeons of Naples
|
| To the white cliffs of Dover
|
| I will slay and I’ll betray
|
| For I pine for what is mine
|
| I was made for decay
|
| I turn wine into brine
|
| I’m the sacrifice of spring
|
| As seen through the dead mayfly’s wing
|
| I’m the ideal soon sparkles
|
| A beauty turned to harshness |