Love like the lost linger of failed memory

Struggles against death but refuses to live

And in the cold wake up of everything I’d give

To have things turn out differently

Now, I know I’m free

And I guess I never told her

Through the whispers and silician vespers

And the gentle promise of soft passage

That I’m helpless to explain

What she knows far better than anyone might expect

That the noose was meant for my neck

In small spots where roads cross

The mystery of fortune and chance wait

For you to find what fits you

And shows you what you need to see

And now that I’ve seen I thank God I’m free

And I guess I never told her

Through the whispers and silician vespers

And the gentle promise of soft passage

That I’m helpless to explain

What she knows far better than anyone might expect

That the noose was meant for my neck