

My lady D’Arbanville, you look so cold tonight
Cat Stevens
Your lips feel like winter
Your skin has turned to white, your skin has turned to white
My lady D’Arbanville, why do you sleep so still?
I’ll wake you tomorrow
And you will be my fill
I loved you my lady, though in your grave you lie
I’ll always be with you
This rose will never die, this rose will never die