66 - The Marquis de Tren, Bonnie "Prince" Billy

She who remained in the depth of my being

In the twilight of gleams and glimpses

She who’d never smiled

She who had never smiled or given it up in the morning

Will be my last gift to you

Folded into the last song

Words have wooed her, but haven’t won her

Persuasion has reached to her, but come up empty

And I’ve gone from country to country

Keeping her in the core of my heart

And around have risen and fallen the growth and decay of my life

And all of my thoughts and actions, my slumbers and dreams

She ruled, yet dwelled alone and apart

And she stayed alone in whatever you call it

Waiting for you to see her

I found a joy of my own

I found a joy of my own

I found a joy of my own

I found a joy of my own

I found a joy of my own

I found a joy of my own

I found a joy of my own

I found a joy of my own