Purpling waves of crimson,

Roll around the ragged crag,

Faint whispers of the eddies,

In my ear.

Before me sinks the valley,

Behind me rise the pines,

Our sun's untimely death,

Draws to a near.

Fear of living lightless,

Awakened to the cold,

Grateful for the hand I get to hold.

Cross your palm with mine, dear

Lets go dancing through the pines,

I’ll keep you warm throughout this

Winter’s night.