We met on some simmering June,
then things got very dark.
We killed our love, almost killed the moon,
but here's three hexes for your lover anyway.
Remember those good days,
we had a few.
Yes those days will come again,
we can tell each other about them,
Crack street, where the water runs through,
and things get very dark.
Green Ringlets on my mind, high tide coming in,
I threw an evil index in a bottle into it.
Smoky blue horizon, wave crash sound.
Black streamers of cloud over the moon,
I'll tell you about it one day.