Do not scoff at love's bitter edges
For they in themselves bear witness
To an age of bygone fancy
Where tear-stained forests
Rushed into their evening to pout

For they were without the grass
They love to touch, they love to touch
Ledges, ledges, ledges, ledges

Glistening in the sun, rainbow betrothed to the sky.
On mystic wings I have soared past ledges
And in myself I bear witness to an age of bygone fancy
Where burn out stars hid their faces in shame

And planets turned their backs and were unholy
And without reason and love
Ledges, ledges, ledges, ledges