Was it like a vision was it like the sky upon the waterline I had nothing for this I had not a single thing to know about And Mary full of grace full to the brim mingling your fever with the ghosts of all that you miss Ive lost every image outside of this I love her in the spaceship I love her in the slaughterhouse among the beasts silence would be wasted were it not like summer lying on her lips And Mary full of grace full to the brim mingling your fever with the ghosts of all that you miss Ive lost every image outside of this