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      Sunday, Sunday, where have you been Your emerald eyes like your hands, reaching out to me? The wolves are out tonight Under the hunter’s moon Cinnabar staining the hem of her lace She’s starting to blush but the moon helps to pale her face ”The groom has gone”, she sighed and slept for a hundred years Sunday’s child and the wolf were wed to Monday’s child with her empty head Tuesday’s child seemed to know the answer Sister Monday, what did you find? ”I found it all but somehow I lost my mind East of the universe and north of a snowbound star Oberon told me: ‘The devil lives there!’ Maybe he stole it and it could be anywhere One soul in silent millions trying to get back home”
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