Oh Rebeka
I knew that woman, the free spirit that lived up and yonder. I knew her back then, when gods stopped short of drooling and men just short of death. I knew a beautiful woman, back then when heaven was her middle name. Oh Rebeka, wild flower of the west, that sweet fruit from the loins of the blessed, where is the beauty that once was your hair? Where is that disciple that used to flow behind you as you ran? Where is your pride that which once was your jewel? Oh I want to know the man who broke the mare. I would like to see the farmer who picked from the forbidden orchard. I would like to know the axe that brought the mighty oak down to the ground. When I last saw you, men were turning heads. You were the story of the day and the topic of the night. So high you were we had to stare from down under. We mauled you Rebeka, with our deprived eyes. We hoped for you but then it was not a fairytale where all things were possible. Oh Rebeka, who is it that finally managed to bring your walls down? Who is it that finally got to push you off your clouds? When I saw you today, Rebeka, my heart broke. Oh beauty truly is a flower with its own season and stage. You have turned into a fruit, an ugly fruit mauled by bats and insects. Rebeka, where are the teeth that used to bewitch us when you smiled? Where are the eyes that used to drive us wild with desire? I saw films of smoke in their place. In your mouth I saw an ulcer. Oh Rebeka, I am ashamed of seeing you this way. Oh how time flies. Yesterday we were trooping to your door but today we are all running away. Yesterday you occupied the whole of our daydreams but today we do not at all want to see you, not even in our nightmares. The main character in the tales of beauty and goodness has turned into an example of refrain. We used to swear by your name, Rebeka, but today, we use that name to scare our children. Rebeka, where is your strength and resolve? Where did your cockiness hide itself? They have broken the mare; oh the stallion got to break the mare. He broke her body then broke her heart. Oh Rebeka, the pain of loving you is worse than that of letting you go. I would love for you to hold my hand but we are so far apart now. I would love for you to be my light but oh, you are the stars and I am the sun. I waited the whole day for you but then you came in during the night, long after I had fled. Oh Rebecca, you are just a memory, somewhere in the back of my mind. You are just a breeze that knows not her way back home. I had come home to drink to my fill out of your cup of love, now that I have come of age, but tonight, Rebeka, the sun has set in my heart and in my mind.
I knew that woman, the free spirit that lived up and yonder. I knew her back then, when gods stopped short of drooling and men just short of death. I knew a beautiful woman, back then when heaven was her middle name. Oh Rebeka, wild flower of the west, that sweet fruit from the loins of the blessed, where is the beauty that once was your hair? Where is that disciple that used to flow behind you as you ran? Where is your pride that which once was your jewel? Oh I want to know the man who broke the mare. I would like to see the farmer who picked from the forbidden orchard. I would like to know the axe that brought the mighty oak down to the ground. When I last saw you, men were turning heads. You were the story of the day and the topic of the night. So high you were we had to stare from down under. We mauled you Rebeka, with our deprived eyes. We hoped for you but then it was not a fairytale where all things were possible. Oh Rebeka, who is it that finally managed to bring your walls down? Who is it that finally got to push you off your clouds? When I saw you today, Rebeka, my heart broke. Oh beauty truly is a flower with its own season and stage. You have turned into a fruit, an ugly fruit mauled by bats and insects. Rebeka, where are the teeth that used to bewitch us when you smiled? Where are the eyes that used to drive us wild with desire? I saw films of smoke in their place. In your mouth I saw an ulcer. Oh Rebeka, I am ashamed of seeing you this way. Oh how time flies. Yesterday we were trooping to your door but today we are all running away. Yesterday you occupied the whole of our daydreams but today we do not at all want to see you, not even in our nightmares. The main character in the tales of beauty and goodness has turned into an example of refrain. We used to swear by your name, Rebeka, but today, we use that name to scare our children. Rebeka, where is your strength and resolve? Where did your cockiness hide itself? They have broken the mare; oh the stallion got to break the mare. He broke her body then broke her heart. Oh Rebeka, the pain of loving you is worse than that of letting you go. I would love for you to hold my hand but we are so far apart now. I would love for you to be my light but oh, you are the stars and I am the sun. I waited the whole day for you but then you came in during the night, long after I had fled. Oh Rebecca, you are just a memory, somewhere in the back of my mind. You are just a breeze that knows not her way back home. I had come home to drink to my fill out of your cup of love, now that I have come of age, but tonight, Rebeka, the sun has set in my heart and in my mind.
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