As you drown, I fought oceans in vain;
it's cold now under the moon.
It's hard to breathe... breathe.
Her screaming I hear from deepest seas,
her voice I hear in the piano.
Amid the cold roof of the charnel house,
arisen from the sweet sick burning scent;
I'm torn, lovelorn, lonely, dying.
Her screaming I hear from deepest seas,
her voice I hear in the piano.
The quill it dances painting the paper,
and I play not the music but a woman's soft voice,
a ghostly message from the girl I'd die for.
Excuse me Mother, but I must join her now.
