Just like oil on canvassÅ
Touch of red, mostly blackÅ
Thick are the air and the fog that hide her from youÅ
WeepsÅ shadowÅ
Cries Å sparkleÅ
ÓShe sleeps, she sleepsÅÔ
Once in time, there she was,
Standing by the willow tree,
Longing for an old feeling, being hisÅ
Now she is like a torn flower,
AloneÅ
Among the trees, and underneath the leaves,
There is her last home, she lies there all aloneÅ