Asleep, I settled In a dream, somewhere Under the white light Just you and I are there I was awake, with feeling, with feeling, with feeling I was awake, with feeling, with feeling, with feeling Gyring in the gorse petals And a wicked thorn pricks my leg It pains me for a cry Just you and I, and red I was awake, with feeling, with feeling, with feeling I was awake, with feeling, with feeling, with feeling And then I find something inside Pricked, then tempered goes the turn Of an impassioned prime So I, with the gorse, shackle and shake I was awake, with feeling, with feeling, with feeling I was awake, with feeling, with feeling, with feeling (Awake it is day) (Awake it is day) (Awake it is day) But now, when the knife twists, bleeding like a gentleman I can barely feel a thing. But with the crimson, I remember when I was awake, with feeling, with feeling, with feeling I was awake, with feeling, with feeling, with feeling Gyring in the gorse petals Where a wicked thorn pricked my leg Visions of a time When it was just you and I, no one else