Oh the leaded window opened but you moved the dancing candle flame and the first moths of summer suicidal came, oh suicidal came. And the new breeze chattered in its May-bud tenderness sending water-lilies sailing as she turned to get undressed. And the long night awakened and we soared on powdered wings circling our tomorrows in the wary month of spring. Chasing shadows slipping in the magic lantern's light - creatures of the candle on the night's light's rite. Dipping and weaving, flutter through the golden needle's eye in our haystack madness, butterfly stroking on a spring-tide high. Life's too long (as the lemmings said) as the candle burned and the moths were wed. And we'll all burn together as the wick grows higher before the candle's dead. Oh the leaded window opened but you moved the dancing candle flame. And the first moths of summer suicidal came, oh suicidal came, to join in the worship of the light that never dies in the moments reflection of two moths spinning in her eyes.