Lyrics adapted from the writings of the wonderful Oscar Wylde.
lyrics
Trying to gather up the scarlet threads of life
to weave them into a pattern to find my way
find my way through
the sanguine labyrinths of passion
through which we are wandering
I'll pick up the pen
for you I had loved
Implore forgiveness in madness
Blaming myself is just enough
the confession, not the priest, brings absolution
Strange that my first passion be for the dead
can they feel, I wonder, those white and silent?
Can she feel now? or know? perhaps listen?
or trapped in the sanguine labyrinths of passion
I forever wonder now...
I'll pick up the pen
for you I had loved
I implore forgiveness in madness
There is a luxury in self-reproach
When we blame ourselves no one else ought blame us
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