(Fripp/Sinfield)
With quill and silver knife
She carved a poison pen

Wrote to her lover's wife:
"Your husband's seed has fed my flesh".


As if a leper's face
That tainted letter graced
The wife with choke-stone throat

Ran to the day with tear-blind eyes.

Impaled on nails of ice

And raked with emerald fire
The wife with soul of snow
With steady hands begins to write:


"I'm still, I need no life
To serve on boys and men

What's mine was yours is dead
I take my leave of mortal flesh"