A Beautiful Morning in Hell

When the winds deceased the smell of hell sits
Like lovely breath ill for more
When the hills cut face out of the rising sun
No wonder
Or dreams to weigh our heads
It's beautiful morning in hell
But our love
Our love stays the same
When the wells a howl and turn new leaves into old
The trees and the morning bare all the same
The usual
It's a beautiful morning in hell
But our love stays the same