I was just bony hands as cold as a winter pole
You held a warm stone out new flowing blood to hold
Oh what a contrast you were to the brutes in the halls
My timid young fingers held a decent animal

Over the ramparts you tossed the scent of your skin and some foreign flowers
Tied to a brick sweet as a song the years have been short but the days were long

Cool of a temperate breeze from dark skies to wet grass
We fell in a field it seems now a thousand summers passed
When our kite lines first crossed we tied them into knots
And to finally fly apart we had to cut them off

Since then it's been a book you read in reverse so you understand less as the pages turn
Or a movie so crass and awkardly cast that even I could be the star

I don't look back as much as a rule and all this way before murder was cool
But your memory is here and I'd like it to stay warm light on a winter day.

Over the ramparts you tossed the scent of your skin and some foreign flowers
Tied to a brick sweet as a song the years have been short but the days go slowly by
Two loose kites falling from the sky drawn to the ground and an end to flight

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