In the halls of tenderness
I will request a dance,
A dance of beauty and of loneliness,
A lengthy dance of many days.
I dare not think of company,
I merely like the move.
Amid music soft as ebony
We sweep the limits of the mood.
And then you'll ask, amid the fury
Of the easy-going walse,
So pleasantly and purely
And so magestically false:
"Have you forgotten,
Why did I given my heart away to you?
Why did I choose you in the battles fought
And battles lost and battles won by few?"
I cannot answer, I am alone,
I listen not to people 'round me.
I send my feelings to the horizon
And ask the wind:
Why does the icy storm
Undo the things to which we've given form?
Why no new faces anymore?
And all remain unknown to me except the four:
Of Time, of Fear, of Rubbish, and Absurdity of law.
Where are we? There are no dancers anymore.
As if I lost myself and in dismay
I yield my wisdom, start to pray.
The beauty passes, winds blow no more,
I seek my way from the Halls of the Four.