In the hour before sunrise
When the shadows hustle home
And the owls dream of daybreak
And the redwoods softly moan
I have often begged for magic
To bring my true love home
But the sunrise only shows
How well my garden grows
In the heat of a single blood-red rose
These eyes, no good for darkness
Rely upon the tenderness
Of shadows for their passion
And the branches slowly twist
Tangled promise with a kiss
Only lovers can imagine
I have often begged for morning
Confessing all she knows
But the sunrise shows
How well my garden grows
In the heat of a blood-red rose
In the hours of my morning
In the vision of the light
Lay the afternoon and evening
And a promise of the night
I have often begged for darkness
To still these trembling hands
But the sunrise shows
How well my garden grows
In the heat of the blood-red sand
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