This copper moon stirs not for me.
It barters secrets with the stars
And pays no heed to hearts afar
Or wishes borne of tragedy.
Oh, endless days in languid seas
Await those who the dreamers are;
This copper moon moves not for we
Who cede our secrets to the stars.
Sweet melancholy won't set free
The halcyon days precision mars;
So rêverie weavers bid au revoir
To fragments of our imagery.
This copper moon wakes not for me.