The greek sword over the head of your bed It swings around like a mobilee To help you sleep dont be silly No sudden movement or youll sleep forever Thorn in your eye and an awful smell With the early morning sun
Sleep tight stay quiet Dont move dont moan Dont toss nor turn Nocturne
This is not a warning were not like that It shall only show how far we can go You see we could But if we would It depends on you
The horses head at the foot of your bed
Smiles at you like the first smile On the first morning but its eyes gaze Gone and empty and the sheets and the carpet Have sucked his blood and an aful smell With the early morning sun
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