The poet's voice lingers on/ His words hang in the air
The ground you walk upon / Might as well not be there
Might as well not be there
I'll take you through my dreams / Out into the darkest morning
Past the blood filled streams / Into the garden of Jane Delawney
Into the garden now
Though the rose is fair / Don't pluck it as you pass
For a fire will consume your hair / And your eyes will turn to glass
Your eyes will turn to glass
In the willow's shade / Don't lie to hear it weep
For its tears of gold and jade / Will drown you as you sleep
Will drown you now
Jane Delawney had her dreams / That she never did discover
For the flow that feeds the stream / Is the life blood of her lover
Is the life blood of her lover
And the purifying beam / Of the sun will shine here never
While the spirit of her dream / In the garden lives forever
Lives forever now
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