With All My Heart

I can't be with anyone I don't love with all my heart.
I can't lay in the fray in the gray fog of this world
with someone I don't love with all my heart.

The heart knows. The wind blows.
It's the island season.
Volcanic eruption is assured.

But nothing before I give my heart to you.

Question marks float overhead the naked girl in the stream,
and the seam of sanity is a little off.

First in the stream, now in blood for sharp questions that attacked her in the blind mist in yearly slashes.

I hold my satchel and persevere towards the island,
The Island of Dreams,
and the dying woman is there, a little girl, and I can tie a rosary to her wrist tight.

Now, nothing on God's Earth will stop her from being happy.

As for me, I walk alone up the creek, thinking about the little girl, the little woman, who will be plenty happy without me.

I can't be with anyone I don't love with all my heart.
I can't lay in the fray in the gray fog of this world
with someone I don't love with all my heart.

I have to care, give a damn before this whole thing starts.
And my damn damns me to be the only damn survivor from those old movies.

And the guy doesn't sing all happy in the end.
One person dies so another can live
because she wants to bathe in her blood and God gave her a blood fellow to keep watch of her river with.

A place where the roses grow, but still always die,
a little short of heaven.