A Purse of Gold and Stars - My Dying Bride

Your summer breathes aloud

Your prayers overcome

Your love letters will fall

Of severe relief

The language of dreams

The offerings of your shrine

Am I what you see?

Well just pour the wine

I bring back to you

Only the things aisle

I built a pure white castle

For you to grow

The clothes that you wore

You dropped them one by one

The duty of lovers

Has now begun

A mouth drawn to a mouth

And I don’t ask when

I ended up as your lover

Wrapped inside your skin

I enter the labyrinth

Of moonlit skin

I’ve worn out my heart

in