Saint Cecelia (Beautiful Name)

I remember my first time was in May
I was young and she led me by my hand
on the Northern Cross through the Milky Way
we rode together 'til the pink edge of dawn. . .
Saint Cecelia was her beautiful name.

All that summer we travelled side by side
she was mine and my heart was swollen with pride
from redstone rocks we dove and swam
golden rays twined in the ink black lake. . .
Saint Cecelia was her beautiful name.

When I gazed in her green eyes
my whole world was my own reflection
while her wide, white smile broadcast mile after mile
in every direction.

Golden October was cold when the sun moved on
with one quick kiss, goodbye, she closed her door.
On the northern wind I cursed her name
in a needle rain alone, with my new shame. . .
Saint Cecelia was her beautiful name.