She smokes in the dark behind my eyes,My eyes sunk blackened in my head,
My head sunk sleepless someplace thin the bed
Ahead a me, a sprawling white-wash tapestry
Sebastian, he smiles at me,
Yes, as the arrows pierce him, still he smiles
And he says This don't feel so bad
Oh, here in the dark beneath these sheets,
I watched a play performed by spirits midst the twisting waves of heat
And when the play was through, I had a wakin dream a you,
Yeah dreams all I have, and they speak wordless in your voice
And with St. Augustine one mornin' at the road-side
With the day around us pulsing, bathed in melancholic dew,
The sun it parted, just a moment, by request a gold-spun angels,
In the cracks between the rays I heard them sing for you
I wrote a song about your eyes,
A dozen lines for every time I thought bout your eyes meeting mine
And when the song was done, your smile, it spawned another one,
Your hair, some melody was so divine, I knew that melody weren't mine
Where once was nothing, less than nothing hind my smile
Now sits Sinéad in savage purple, an I sing to her sometimes,
An though I know I don't deserve to speak her name, I can't forget
That it is all I'll ever have of her, I'll take what I can get
And this don't feel so bad
