Texty: Fields Of The Nephilim. For Her Light.

How lonely you are waiting at the sunday park
I'll elude you, I will lose you
Existing were no soul apart

You stand on a platform
Your effigy dissolves in my hands

When I feel like someone to lie on
And I feel like someone to rely on

You can't wake up

Illusions born of the air
Something seems so precious there

I'll elude you, I will lose you
As rehearsal of my despair

When I feel like someone to lie on
And I feel like someone to die on

You can't wake up

Oh here me
I'm what you have left
Here I am
In this necrologue of love