Lucine (O', Digest Me)

Lucine, oh, inspect me Before I have to go And if I really want to You'll be in control When the reign is terrible And brought back to the fore I'd be in resolute fortitude Way more than I should Lucine, oh, digest me And heave out what you knew Of that man, head in the sand Prior to the beast And if I really am If I really can Make it to heaven Wouldn't it be nice to get in touch Over the trees, or up above Taste the air of which seems hard to reach Wouldn't it be nice to get in touch Press my buttons far enough Then everything, it seems, is rich to die To die The scents of yore seep in my hair For what I've done we'll have to bear Our life was short; was cut so thin My unknown force has come again The scents of yore seep in my hair For what I've done we'll have to bear My fruitless heart; obsessed of thee You'll never hope, you'll never dream My Lucine