Grace-green sweater. Red-spur hair.

Norwegian wood,
I want to be under your hood.
I want to live under your Sun,
That appears only when Iˊm gone.
Even in moss,
I am ready to bloss.
Even in fear,
I am ready to veer.
Norwegian wood,
I want to feel all your mood.
I want to hug all your spur,
That are as red as my blood.
Even with bleed,
I am ready to heed.
Even being blind,
I am ready to mind.
Norwegian wood,
I want to live under your hood.
But tell me, my heart,
Why you do so much hurt.
I want to be within your hands,
Being embraced by all your lands.