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Black marble seals the pit |
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And I can see my face in it... |
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Now pose beside the flame that lasts forever. |
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So fetching in your Autumn dress... |
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Just raise the hem a little less... |
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Be dignified. This is a somber moment. |
|
Upon the count of three |
|
Sail pale confetti on the breeze... |
|
Each flake of pastel paper |
|
Has a name on...not forgotten. |
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And I'd like to pin the blame on nameless faces... |
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Covered, rotten. |
|
Limb for limb |
|
And through the knees... |
|
God, I wish that they were millipedes... |
|
A hypodermic mercy won't appease me. |
|
This one's for Guy Schlesinger... |
|
A jovial young messenger |
|
Who tripped and nearly kissed a girl |
|
Then spilled the sequel, drenched in detail. |
|
They're still searching... |
|
I know he died a virgin. |
|
Mary, treat him well, |
|
For deep inside, the Prince of Dreams still sleeps... |
|
And this one makes me weep. |
|
A clover leaf that's red but ripped. |
|
Still I hear him whisper: |
|
"Best to live...and let live..." |
|
LET LIVE. |
|
By whose grace do we stand here now... |
|
Granted this extension? |
|
Did you just forget to mention both our names? |
|
And by what name should be bid you |
|
When you hide and whisper riddles... |
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From the blind side to your deaf ear |
|
We are screaming: "Leave us be!" |
|
LET LIVE. |
