Pretty girl
what have you done to my world
you've stolen my heart
and torn apart
the earth, the sky, the seas, the stars
- what is this unrecognizable place
you have left me stranded in?
I have heard tales of people being
kidnapped by the fairies
and taken up to ride with them
upon their ethereal steeds
- then unceremoniously dumped
a hundred miles away from their home...
but you are more fey and terrible
than the fairest and cruelest
of all the Ladies of the Sidhe,
and more powerful too,
for you have disassembled the entire world,
replacing all of its inhabitants,
save one or two small children,
with mindless and lacklustre drones and halfwits
that go about their grey routines
like so many termites or ants.
Who am I? I cry to the wind
but the wind does not know
any more than I do...
Pretty girl
give me back my heart
and remove all memory of your beauty
from my mind
- as meagre and ephemeral as they were,
I was a man with habits, routines
and tasks to perform
- now I am just an autumn leaf blown upon the wind
a stray thought in the diseased mind of some mad god
a flake of snow that has fallen down a chimney
in which a raging fire burns
a hurtling train on a track with no destination
a desire with no true object
a lover who beloved has hidden herself away from him
and will not come out to play...
Pretty girl
- look what you have done to me!
Have mercy on this stumbling fool
come to me and take my hand
speak a kind word in my ear
kiss me!
what have you done to my world
you've stolen my heart
and torn apart
the earth, the sky, the seas, the stars
- what is this unrecognizable place
you have left me stranded in?
I have heard tales of people being
kidnapped by the fairies
and taken up to ride with them
upon their ethereal steeds
- then unceremoniously dumped
a hundred miles away from their home...
but you are more fey and terrible
than the fairest and cruelest
of all the Ladies of the Sidhe,
and more powerful too,
for you have disassembled the entire world,
replacing all of its inhabitants,
save one or two small children,
with mindless and lacklustre drones and halfwits
that go about their grey routines
like so many termites or ants.
Who am I? I cry to the wind
but the wind does not know
any more than I do...
Pretty girl
give me back my heart
and remove all memory of your beauty
from my mind
- as meagre and ephemeral as they were,
I was a man with habits, routines
and tasks to perform
- now I am just an autumn leaf blown upon the wind
a stray thought in the diseased mind of some mad god
a flake of snow that has fallen down a chimney
in which a raging fire burns
a hurtling train on a track with no destination
a desire with no true object
a lover who beloved has hidden herself away from him
and will not come out to play...
Pretty girl
- look what you have done to me!
Have mercy on this stumbling fool
come to me and take my hand
speak a kind word in my ear
kiss me!
