[Instrumental]
A morning in magenta, the petals fed from the dew.
She held her breath for a moment, to pause off the stream.
Still clinging to vast, old memories.
And I would marvel at her beauty, playing through the rain.
The coffin is beautifully engraved.
Stained by soil, symbols of d**h.
All of which are stared upon, with porcelain eyes it seems.
Some spoke, and it was my turn to go.
In d**h entwined, I could not believe.
But it hangs around my neck.
A soft breeze pa**ed me by, somewhat warmer for a second.
I knew it was the coming of spring, thus our APRIL ETHEREAL.