Svaermere      There lives under sorrow and tunnels of teardrops   In darkness of beetles and worms   A black little beast with chalk white in veins   In the deep where the dragons grow old   Deep down where the dragons grow old   I know that she lives there I often go down   At nighttime when high sky is gone   We make love between beetles and tickling worms   And drink of the dawn ink that dreams are made of   Follow the track that the rain leaves on windows   When tanglopper jump into midnattens toner   She smells light of clay   And whistles violent wind words   To svirende svævende Sværmere   iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii   Svævende sværmere Svævende sværmere