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Anne, let's die in some dim town |
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My brown eyes wait to weigh us down |
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The candles 'round the tub will drown, |
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In our afternoons |
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Music from our evening parlor |
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Darker than the autumn hour |
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I gave my child twenty dollars |
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For tearing at our moons |
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Dark damp men muddied our house |
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In my dreams to bleed your blouse |
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I smiled from my sleep to douse |
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The horror of this hour |
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Our boy on dark hills blurry crawling |
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His rain-glazed shaking porches falling |
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The homes of all his friends just sprawling, |
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Withering like flowers |
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Anne, I've loved you from a boy |
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No other autumn could destroy |
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The town our winds fused to enjoy, |
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Whispering dark farmlands |
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Tearing moons, these moons are tearing |
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Swearing terror inside their daring, |
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Crumbling prayers, dark autumns faring, |
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Straight out of our hands |
