Van Der Graaf Generator

I can remember it so well,
the bed of roses where we lay,
the crown of thorns I was so keen to give away.
All the warning signs ignored,
the passion's played.
I could foresee what was to come,
I had a sense of what might happen.
The river runs and very rapidly
becomes a torrent, sweeping us
towards our ricochet.
It takes a lifetime to unravel all the threads
that have tied us in our webs of tourniquet.
I stake no claim on memory.