As if exactly the only way all this
Inexorably somehow moves us
Somehow tumbles us like torn leaves
Skittering into wet winter drifts
O tree-eager night play windy chords
For us wear out your lousy instruments
You don’t know you don’t know what
Music should do for such lovers as we
Who palmed church pennies
We who wheedled from God’s hand
Three sacred days alone together
We who care nothing for fragrant spring
A flagrant landscape gaudy with lust
A bawdy horizon fallen into itself and lost
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