the eve of morrow; we may never see the sun again.
We may never walk a country mile, nor be
remembered by our sins.
Sins we acquire long the way--
Sins of flesh, of shame ?
I see no sin in the passion of lust; what is there
that needs taming anyway ?
the eve of morning; we may never see the sun.
We may never drag a lonely hand across the sand of
a favorite beach.
We may never again sympathize with the world
beyond cadence of simple speech.