There's a breaking of voices
There's a crack that never mends
It fills the vase of flowers
Until they wilt and fall away
I will not sing to you each evening
I will not mend it just to keep
Opening from closing
The joyful death of what could beBurned in memory
What a life that we have lived
And we'll live it againA finger wrapped in cotton
I'll cool it in the sea
Thinking, "How could you be so stupid?
You cannot cut off that part of me"
Burned in memory
What a life that I have lived
And I'll live it again
What a life that I have lived
And I'll live it again