She speaks to me in riddles,
Yet Disguises them as rhymes...
She speaks to me in riddles,
Yet Disguises them as rhymes...
Soft and sudel as a breeze,
Softly, swiftly blow the trees...
In you're brain it seeps in deeP,
Farther in it slowly creeps...
A feeling I can't fight,
These tears not shed in light...