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von These Immortal Souls

I will have no truck with you
I will not venture from this room
Or burn myself with fevered light
Or wound myself with all that sight will bring
I will not sing for you
(The urchin rags that once you wore

Lie scattered on the road and more)
The holy grail all wondrous woken
Lies still neath ground all softly spoken
But in bed but in be doubtful
So much to choke on every mouthful
I want I don't I crave I cross
My heart and hope to love the loss
And all around are damning wonders
Who take you in and hold you under

For I have cradled melancholy
And teased and worried naked folly
(Destroy me well destroy me true
And I will always think of you)
The holy grail all wondrous woken
Lies still neath ground all softly spoken
But in bed but in be doubtful
So much to choke on every mouthful
I want I don't I crave I cross

My heart and hope to love the loss
I will not shed my skin for you
Or dip my hat when shunning will plainly do