Woman, woman, I am worn.
Woman, see these hands?
Calloused by a fervent rhythm
beaten when days were long.

Days were long and nites inviting
when Gaia did crown me King.
The honey desire of a fertile maiden
wriggling for my love.

My love, my seed warm in her womb.
How Gaia did bloom from inside!
The memory sweet of a day now passed
and a world that flourished in green.

Yet the rhythm wanes - our song mature.
My strength is nearly spent.
Retire I must to the land of the weary.
in the South, and far far away.

So I crown you my lover, my mother, my Queen,
my Gaia, as you crowned me.
To reign alone - that subtle song.
Persuasion is a powerful thing.

Woman, woman, I trust your wisdom.
Persuade me now to sleep.
Rock me gently and kiss me farewell
and give the world what it needs.

And prepare, for I’m dreaming of Spring.

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