At some point, even the greatest misery begins to fade. Life, or what passes for life, plods on in it's own unending weary footsteps, and somehow we plod along with it, if we stay lucky.
Oh, the need to lay my tongue in the rivers of wine,To taste of her lustHow a star feels as it bursts infinitely into diamondsThe earth cries, but it is only the heavens that weep for herThe sun needs to rise once moreCast its loving arms across the mountains and her valleysAnd pull her from the shadowsTo bathe her in the warmth the heart only knows as love
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Oh, the need to lay my tongue in the rivers of wine,To taste of her lustHow a star feels as it bursts infinitely into diamondsThe earth cries, but it is only the heavens that weep for herThe sun needs to rise once moreCast its loving arms across the mountains and her valleysAnd pull her from the shadowsTo bathe her in the warmth the heart only knows as love
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