| Winter raging
|
| The color gone
|
| Hands were blue and cold
|
| A recitation
|
| I slowly read you Tomb for Anatole
|
| He was eight years old
|
| A dead child is no
|
| Occasion for a song
|
| Where did I go wrong?
|
| When they say face facts, disobey that
|
| There’s singing still left to be done
|
| They still can’t name that fragrant
|
| Wind rolling off a corpse
|
| Until the day that you play back the tape that you made
|
| Record your mother saying every word
|
| Pronounce the gray that the rains had brought over the sun
|
| Like a veil to suffocate the earth
|
| (But hunger is first)
|
| And I could feel in my body time rushing in
|
| The way nothing must have felt when something started to begin
|
| The way all of your sympathy taught me something was wrong
|
| Secret disfortune, this cold, slow momentum
|
| I remember snow
|
| Saw it fall
|
| Watched a child learn
|
| The word 'nightfall'
|
| And sleep because it’s sad
|
| Or not sleep at all
|
| I learned the word 'forever'
|
| From Demerol
|
| I let my body go
|
| I feed the thaw
|
| Like jumping off a cliff
|
| But never falling
|
| A dust finer than smoke
|
| A memory in my throat
|
| A flame that pulses cold
|
| A faraway echo
|
| And I could feel in my body time rushing in
|
| The way nothing must have felt when something started to begin
|
| The way all of your sympathy taught me something was wrong
|
| Secret disfortune, this cold, slow momentum
|
| And I could feel in my body time rushing in
|
| The way nothing must have felt when something started to begin
|
| The way all of your sympathy taught me something was wrong
|
| Secret disfortune, this cold, slow momentum
|
| I remember snow
|
| Saw it fall
|
| Watched a child learn
|
| The word 'nightfall'
|
| And sleep because it’s sad
|
| Or not sleep at all
|
| I learned the word 'forever'
|
| From Demerol
|
| I let my body go
|
| I feed the thaw |