It is the essence of wounds
When Morpheus neglects me
It is the bittersweet moon
Against your face it won’t protect me
And when I stumble off your trail
The illusion gently fades
That your innocence prevail
That I will recognise it one day
And this voice inside my head
That comes to me at night
It keeps telling me you are dead
Although I know you’ll never die
And these words I’ve always known
Seem so hard to face alone
When you tell me that I will find
What you tell me that I will know