How delicate the tracery of her fine lines
Like the moonlight lacetops of the evening pines
Like a song half heard through a closed door
Like an old book when you cannot read the writing anymore
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsfreak.com/a/art+garfunkel/watermark_20349569.html ]
How innocent her visage as my child lover lies
Pressed against the rainswept windy windows of my eyes
Like an antique etching glass design
That somehow turned out wrong
I keep looking through old varnish
At my late lover's body
Caught on ancient canvas
And decaying...disappearing
Even as I sing this song

How secretly and silently my sorrow disappears
You can't see it with your eyes or hear it with your ears
It's like a Watermark that's never there and never really gone
I keep looking through old varnish
At my late lover's body
Caught on ancient canvas
And decaying...disappearing
Even as I sing this song
Even as I sing this song
Even as I sing this song