I'll take you to a world
of burgundy linen walls,
of warm, lonely candles,
of tartan clad halls.

Crisp, barren sheets
will be stranger to you.
You'll become more accustomed
to violets of deep blue.

On your bed of rose petals,
imagination will come
& you shall not stop dreaming
'til the late evening drum,
with fires as high as
the tartan clad halls,
where you will hear how
the alpine bird calls.

Then it will be clear
why you where stolen from there,
where you toiled all day,
now you'll have not one care.

You'll feel so much better
when you begin to awake.
Realize I snipped all your strings
for your saintly heart's sake.

You'll see how, with grace,
I relieved you from sin,
and rescued you from
the grief you fell in.

So cease your crying, my dear,
dry your crystalline eye.
You cannot escape,

but i haven't a doubt,

you won't want to try.