A broken violin A trinket made of tin A faded photograph inside a splintery frame She left a scented note An acid anecdote A tale of woe, she wrote her love for me had died Midnight, there is only midnight There will be no morning light Isabella is gone Our immortality Was a fatality A dusty library where all the books had burned She spoke of foreign lands The trembling of her hands Revealed a longing for the things I could not give Midnight, there is only midnight There will be no morning light Isabella is gone Midnight, the clock has stopped at midnight There will be no morning light Isabella is gone I dine alone tonight By dancing candlelight I set the table with a single cover A cup of emptiness A plate of bitterness And it must all be chewed between the teeth of time Midnight, there is only midnight There will be no morning light Isabella is gone Midnight, the clock has stopped at midnight There will be no morning light Isabella is gone Isabella is gone