When I headed east, after dark I forgot why I left

With my head in my hands and my hands on my mind and my heart left in the west

She’s been making me bleed to black out

Till morning beams I can’t believe make me see

When I headed east of the garden, the passion had passed

But bloodlust is crouching behind every vapor-fed fast

Who cares what we sing? I’m mast-lashed

And I’d rather rope than melody rule over me

When I headed east, I was tired of the beauty of gold

But Beauty is black before bright who believes what she’s told

So why would I sleep? Lord knows

That morning beams I can’t believe won’t make me see