Bruce Cockburn - Embers of Eden

you knelt on the carpet, crimson and stained

light trickled over your black dress like rain

your lips were hot, and my shocked heart screamed

and i can’t scrape my eyes free of this dream

we each occupy the same space/time

matter, antimatter, tangled like vines

and the awful tolling, and the cold rain outside

and i cannot scrape this dream off my eyes

and the embers of Eden burn, you can even see it from space

and the great and winding wall between us seems to copy the lines of your face