<> page <Autumn '67 Spring '68, 1970 (Mini LP)> album page |
DawnDawnDawn Dawn, the innocence and purity of a newborn day Unspoiled as yet by the tarnished hand of waking man In its innocence, it knows not of her plan Swellings turn on as the machine starts She, for dawn is surely a maiden, is born and raped 365 times every year since the beginning of time She, for dawn is a maiden, returns completely innocent It's as though she smiles on the January red And at first she cries at the first thrust of summer Dawn is pregnant with promise and anticipation And is murdered by the hand of the inevitable But yet dawn has forgiven us for the sins Men wrought on her |