Once, in my youth,
I would dance with a boy
Who smelled of dreams
And was made of smoke.We would spin in the meadows
And take a dip in the shallows,
Share stories by moonlight,
And sleep under starlights.Now, i know not
the smell of dreams,
And he is gone,
like the smoke he is.¤
Once, in my youth,
I spoke with a girl
In the language of hope
And with the gesture of faithWe would sing about flowers
And princesses in their towers,
Watch every sunrise,
With a glint in our eyes.Now, the girl is gone;
I waited in the shadows
While she stood
And taken by the gallows.