Love's Promise: Sieben (Live)

The sun has spurge the season, enchanters night the wormwood sky
Your musk, your asarina joy, your radiant woad, our honeysuckle tryst.

Will you come again, sweet as briar, rose-hipped?
Will you come again, rough as chervil, lining the lain?
Will you come again, perfuse as cicely, spurge as teasel?
Will you come again, sharp as shedherd's needle?

Our fritillary love, its warp and weft our bindweed trust
Our wild garlic lust, our foxglove thrust, your butterbur desire.

Will you come again, sweet as briar, rose-hipped?
Will you come again, rough as chervil, lining the lain?
Will you come again, perfuse as cicely, spurge as teasel?
Will you come again, sharp as shedherd's needle?

Will you come again, sorrel and bramble?
Will you come again, my winter aconite?
Will you come again, saxifrage dittander?
Will you come again, my lily of the valley?
Will you come again, viper's grass and hawkweed?
Will you come again, my feverfew and tansy?
Will you come again, love's promise and betony desire?
Will you come again, enchanter's night, our honeysuckle tryst?