Wind carried in a tuneless hymn the night you wrote
I bit my lip in my fierce delight
In your silence I fear the worst is yet to come and sink into a backwards lullaby
Yearning for you gives me so much to do these days
Anything else is gray
I end up waiting all the time
Seldom I’ve heard, or had the nerve
To speak the truth
Take whims of youth
And now I’m beginning to find that it could be sin
How sweet it is
It could definitely be sin
How sweet it is

When will I get what I deserve?
A spider web, a runaway, a kaleidoscopic mind
When will I be alone for good as I rightly should?
For I know quite well the vengefulness of time
And it could be sin
How sweet it is
It could definitely be sin
How sweet it is