these are the halcyon days of summer
the sweet interregnum before the fall 
when we spin the evenings' wine-dark colours
into a tapestry of myth and thrall 

when autumn overcomes the final masque,
will you shed any tears for who we were? 
will you carry the fire? will you look back?
or will you burn your robes and ne'er return?

perhaps i ought to have left you, my dear
rather than follow you to summer's end
blessed be those who burn on solstice pyres
and not those still afraid to call you friend

come winter, i hope i still think of you
and that you will think fondly of us too.  


[coronach for a teenage witch?] 

my wayward darling's still haunting my dreams 
though years ago you left me on my own
i only see you in the inbetweens 

we gave them to the funeral machine
yet after they'd been burnt down to the bone
my wayward darling's still haunting my dreams 

usually you look like you're about eighteen
please, you're far too young for the great unknown
i only see you in the inbetweens. 

if this be my angel, come to redeem
then might my reckoning be yet postponed?
my wayward darling's still haunting my dreams 

but now you visit less and less, it seems
i fear you'll finally leave me all alone
i only see you in the inbetweens. 

so if times when i wake i also scream 
it's because i've awoken, but you won't:
my wayward darling's still haunting my dreams
i only see you in the inbetweens.