Hyacinth lighting virgin
breathing in your ear
She says you’ve gone and hurt her
turned her pure-white body clear
Shiver through the open window
the streetcars rumble by
You long for your winter lady
not this stranger by your side
not this stranger by your side

The morning air does compel you
to float down the spiral stairs
Spanish-blue stockings yawning
and the ashes in the air
Oh Captain, you ask yourself
I miss her of the raven-hair
what future did you behold
when you stole me away from there
when you stole me away from there

She of the bloom and frost
of cucumber and olive oil
She of the spring I’ve lost
to the song of the nightingale
Well, the penitent man will be forgiven
but the black-hearted will rot
So oh golden king forgive me
for not being what I’m not
for not being what I’m not

The captain says he won’t answer
from his throne of light and pearls
Your grotesque, shrouded body
that you loath and you love
is just an accident that only you can bear
You’re invisible and as wild as the sea
and you hurt what you hold most dear
You’re the traitor, and you are me
You’re the traitor, and you are me
You’re the traitor, and you are me
You are the traitor, and I am thee