I am desperate for a peaceful resting
From the exhaustion of nursing this electric surge tugging through my soul
Every strike invokes a hounding feeling of scornfulness
It is just too strong to calm ...
Because I am mad about women
I am mad about the hills,'
Said that wild old wicked man
Who travels where God wills.
'Not to die on the straw at home.
Those hands to close these eyes,
That is all I ask, my dear,
From the old man in the skies.
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