My loneliness burns cold and deep
An endless brew left now to steep
Upon the wandering window's keep
For now she stands in mourning
Be not far from whence I stand
There is a mouth, an arm, a hand
A vaguely vacant contraband
Who cannot shake his scorning
Give me something new to hold
Lest I lose as fear unfolds
And nerve leaves cool from hands so cold
My hands are cold till morning
