Besedila: Decemberists. The Hazards of Love. Isn't it a Lovely Night?.

Isn't a lovely night?
And so alight with fireflies providing us their holy light
And here we made a bed of boughs
And thistle down that we had found to lay upon the dewy ground

And isn't it a lovely way?
We got in from our play
Isn't it, babe? A sweet little baby

Wasn't it a lovely breeze
That swept the leaves of arbor eaves and bent to brush our blushing knees?
And here we died our little deaths
And we were left to catch our breaths so swiftly lifting from our chests?

And isn't it a lovely way?
We got in from our play
Isn't it babe? A sweet little baby