She's left the court on her mule
He's still but shaking inside
They sit alone in a park
Where strangers hide away
Until the end of the day
She sits in the middle of a meadow
Among bleeding rabbits that bite
And wilting flowers that bloom
In the dead of night
So they can stay out of sight
And while her lips keep smiling, her eyes are full of tears
And no-one knows the reason she hasn't talked in years
And in her private diary I wrote an unwritten line
If only she could read it, she'd be my Valentine
My new blue moon-shine
He doesn't know it's Good Friday
He rides through woods full of snow
For years he's trying to kill him
He doesn't know he's dead
He's just a thought in his head.
And three miles down the highway stands an unpointing sign
But no-one ever heeds it, that's why they keep in line
The empty, snowy Queen's gown is stained with dark red wine
If I could only help her, she'd be my Valentine
My new blue moon-shine
My little columbine