© 1996, 2020 Hanging is a painting with a hand-carved oaken frame Left untouched by warriors who fought to gain their name Now at last the ballroom's quiet there's no sound of clicking heels As the dust acquires thickness on a statue in a kneel Your loves of yesterday that dare stand in your way Are cast so far away by you and made to sound as if to say You never knew the love that you were given You never cared for someone like me Raised with a silver spoon upon your pillow Slept with your windows open to sea What have you done, what have you done, what have you done In this cottage of forgiveness aging's natural and slow While the servants are all buried beneath the virgin snow All at once they died so quickly without warning or farewell There's no sound among the ballrooms but the sound of a knell What have you done, what have you done, what have you done