My love keeps her promise to me,
She wakes to never ending night
Yet she fights to say alive.
She longs for gladder days,
But they do not arrive.
My love keeps her promise to me.
She stays and keeps a silence,
Dressed in greying white.
She clamps weak fingers round my heart,
While her soul becomes a kite.
I keep my promise to my love,
On a string around my neck,
The key to death's dark cabinet,
Tied with gold around my neck.
I keep my promise to my love:
"For better, and for worse,
If you long for death, my dear,
You must kill me first."
