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A Purse Of Gold And Stars
by
My Dying Bride
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Your summer breathes aloud Your prayers overcome Your love letters will fall Of severe relief The language of dreams The offerings of your shrine Am I what you see? Well just pour the wine I bring back to you Only the things aisle I built a pure white castle For you to grow The clothes that you wore You dropped them one by one The duty of lovers Has now begun A mouth drawn to a mouth And I don't ask when I ended up as your lover Wrapped inside your skin I enter the labyrinth Of moonlit skin I've worn out my heart [?] in
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