Asleep, I settled
In a dream, somewhere
Under the white light
Just you and I are there
I was awake, with feeling, with feeling, with feeling
I was awake, with feeling, with feeling, with feeling
Gyring in the gorse petals
And a wicked thorn pricks my leg
It pains me for a cry
Just you and I, and red
I was awake, with feeling, with feeling, with feeling
I was awake, with feeling, with feeling, with feeling
And then I find something inside
Pricked, then tempered goes the turn
Of an impassioned prime
So I, with the gorse, shackle and shake
I was awake, with feeling, with feeling, with feeling
I was awake, with feeling, with feeling, with feeling
(Awake it is day)
(Awake it is day)
(Awake it is day)
But now, when the knife twists, bleeding like a gentleman
I can barely feel a thing. But with the crimson, I remember when
I was awake, with feeling, with feeling, with feeling
I was awake, with feeling, with feeling, with feeling
Gyring in the gorse petals
Where a wicked thorn pricked my leg
Visions of a time
When it was just you and I, no one else
