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I was just bony hands, as cold as a winter pole
You held a warm stone out, new flowing blood to hold
Oh, what a contrast you were to the brutes in the halls
My timid young fingers held a decent animal

Over the ramparts you tossed
The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers
Tied to a brick, sweet as a song
The years have been short but the days were long

Cool of a temperate breeze from dark skies to wet grass
We fell in a field, it seems, now a thousand summers past
When our kite lines first crossed we tied them into knots
And to finally fly apart we had to cut them off

Since then it's been a book you read in reverse
So you understand less as the pages turn
Or a movie so crass and awkwardly cast
That even I could be the star

I don't look back much as a rule
And all this, way before murder was cool
But your memory is here and I'd like it to stay
Warm light on a winter's day

Over the ramparts you tossed
The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers
Tied to a brick, sweet as a song
The years have seemed short but the days go slowly by

Two loose kites falling from the sky
Drawn to the ground and an end to flight