I felt the pulse of your heart
Dropped under the fever of love
I saw you lowly needing peace
That eloped through the chimney of love
The condition of your weather
Deteriorates when singing songs of love
All the wishes conjured in love-spirit
Clove to the propeller of jilt
True-love truly does exist
Where a hero can die for love. But
In this modern world of cake and machine
I bet you never really can tell.