Excuse me, Miss, may I forget
this broken heart I've yet to set?
I've traveled far but to find rain,
falling gently upon the stains.
Excuse me, Love, may I descend?
Upon your throne, I will pretend.
My breath it falls between the years
it took the stars to scar these dreams.
Would you stay close to me, I'm sure
the heat would beg to burn you more;
like flinging fire into the sun:
the rays don't walk, they only run.
If you'd stay close at hand, I'd show
how love could dry us to the bone.
When Heaven closes, then you'd know:
we'd strayed too close to Hell alone.