Now if I could disclose secrets heaven only knows
If I'd lose all my ground and see your smile decompose
So I rest on the fact that I love you I suppose
And I hang like the colors on a blind man's clothes
On a blind man's clothes
I'm the pale moon rising I'm the ghost in flight
That steals through the spaces of your inward night
I'm the moth that's resting on your window sill
With a lust for light and an iron will
And an iron will
Pray tell talk to me can you feel me in the fingers
Of the wind in your hair as if I'm standing there
Very well like a child running to some mademoiselle
In his hand to his ear is pressed a great seashell
A great seashell
How does it feel
How does it feel

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