Ahh the recluse of romance
She waits just beyobd the grasp of my wringing hands
Patiently pictured on the pewter coasts
Outstreched hand of love and infinare devotion
Separated from mine lonely wringing hands
No less than thousand miles
Either direction of where my tomb rests
To the north
To the east
To the west
Lest us not forget the south
Lovers every way the wind blows
Kisses traversed through jetstream journeys
Oh how i beg the four winds
Blow the victor of my heart's lonely race
To where i am stuck to stay