Through Blossom, Through Wilt
Oh, of how many'd a rose
What to do? What to say?
How to speak when so little'd be spoken?
Times have passed. His un'tever gracing Waltz.
Of'Wards-to Oblivion? To essence began?
Still Waltz do I to neverwhen.
And a blue day. To a blue day.
Where have all the feelings gone?
Why has all the laughter ceased...
T'was beauty of the littlest doubt.
Ah. The night calls.
The stunningly bright calls
But such folly in the heart of the wise-
Such haze in their sights
Of No End, Till No End.
Why am I loved only when I'm gone?
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