The facts are frightened when a shade falls in your room,
Your money evaporates too soon,
The old days of heightening these melancholy moods are stretched to the ripping core of the cracking gloom.

Don't die, don't give me that suicide,
I want you for my love,
Don't die, don't give me that suicide,
I want you for my love.

A soothing tongue of fire will lick up an open wound,
Give some time for the rose to bloom.

Don't die, don't give me that suicide,
I want you for my love,
Don't die, don't give me that suicide,
I want you for my love.

Don't die, don't give me that suicide,
I want you for my love,
Don't die, don't give me that suicide,
I want you for my love.