Wool

The gods has been hard on us

Rough days for both of us

Now I'm tip toeing in fuzzy socks

Staying quiet so the monster won't wake up

He wears the clothes that I'm wearing

Has a voice like wool when he talks to me softly

(Softly, is this really the last time we touch?

If only I knew that it meant so much to you)

So pure in candlelight

Haven't seen him since the day I lied

No I'm sorting grains and stealing things

Might as well keep going until the day I die

All the others are staring

And I'm hiding behind my mountains

Crying fountains

The water's as black as coal

As I knock on Proserpina's door

Go on take the things you like

Won't be much left of me anyway after tonight

I'm cold sweating

I hope this is enough, oh God

If only I could hold on to this box of mine

This box is so fine

No lock, I'll try

To open up and maybe I can find some sign

That he's around

That he's on time

Now I could use some of his wool to lay on