Your thread, a sharpened gleam,
Cuts the kite of my heart, alas.
Severed by you, it seems,
Falls upon your roof, alas.
Your thread, a sharpened gleam,
Cuts the kite of my heart, alas.
Severed by you, it seems,
Falls upon your roof, alas.
My soul departs, it seems,
If you but glance my way, alas.
Severed by you, it seems,
Falls upon your roof, alas.
Your thread, a sharpened gleam,
Cuts the kite of my heart, alas.
A butterfly, wild and free,
Now here, now there, you see,
How did I land, on your roof, alas?
These whims, a painted scene,
What lies between you and me?
These whims, a painted scene,
What lies between you and me?
My heart, a paper bird, you see,
And all the heavens, you are, alas.
If you but gaze, then
It flutters off, ah, free, alas.
Your thread, a sharpened gleam,
Cuts the kite of my heart, alas.
Severed by you, it seems,
Falls upon your roof, alas.
Your thread, a sharpened gleam,
Cuts the kite of my heart, alas.
Severed by you, it seems,
Falls upon your roof, alas.
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