Lyrics

Melancholia picks the marsh's glistening tuv wool
On melancholia's plantation a dreamy slave hums a spiritual.
You ask with a suspicious glance what is growing out there,
The answer you will get is the one you never want to have.
Wistfulness and melancholia don't wear out from happiness
nor do they make sorrow any coarser
Melancholia and wistfulness are valuable senses.