Crüxshadows - Monument

I never wrote you a love song 

somehow words could not express what I needed to say 

and so I never wrote you a love song 

and now it's much, much too late 'cause you've gone away 



But I will build this monument 

to remember all the love we once had 

and I'll close my eyes and make it how it used to be 

I swear I never stopped loving you with everything I am 

and it hurts so much to think you stopped loving me 

you stopped loving me 



So I wish that I'd had written you a love song 

and somehow you understood what it feels to be me 

becuase the Angel loves the sprite forever 

and does it unconditionally 



But I will build this monument 

to remember all the love we once had 

and I'll close my eyes and make it how it used to be 

I swear I never stopped loving you with everything I am 

and it hurts so much to think you stopped loving me 

you stopped loving me 



I met a lady in the meads 

Full beautiful --- a faery's child; 

Her hair was long, her foot was light, 

And her eyes were wild. 



I made a garland for her head, 

And bracelets too, and fragrant zone; 

She look'd at me as she did love, 

And made sweet moan. 



I set her on my pacing steed, 

And nothing else saw all day long; 

For sideways would she lean, and sing 

A faery's song. 



She found me roots of relish sweet, 

And honey wild, and manna dew; 

And sure in language strange she said, 

'I love thee true.' 



She took me to her elfin grot, 

And there she wept and sighed full sore, 

And there I shut her wild wild eyes 

With kisses four. 



And there she lulled me asleep, 

And there I dream'd --- ah! woe betide! --- 

The latest dream I ever dreamt 

On the cold hill side. 



I saw pale kings, and princes too, 

Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; 

They cried --- 'La Belle Dame sans Merci 

Hath thee in thrall!' 



I saw their starved lips in the gloam 

With horrid warning gaped wide, 

And I awoke, and found me here 

On the cold hill side. 



And this is why I sojourn here, 

Alone and palely loitering; 

Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake, 

And no birds sing.









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