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Because you were always unnoticed |
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You were always the flame that dies, |
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Bastard with a flat-top singing, "The Cloud of Unknowing", |
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Bastard with a flat-top singing, "There's a flame, a flame, a flame, |
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A flame that never dies." |
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Because you were always unfocused, |
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Jinxing the photograph with the pain in your eyes. |
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Bastard with a flat-top singing, "I shall wait for your love, |
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I shall wait for your love all days." |
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Bastard with a casket singing, "I shan't wait for her love, |
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I shan't wait for her love." |
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But you were always: |
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A saint, a flower in a glove, a night made for the raising of your glass, |
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The night's going to be a foolin' and a foolin', but still: |
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Judith ain't sure, |
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Toil away, play in the sand, gross out your heart, |
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The night's going to be made for the la-la-la, but still: |
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Judith ain't sure. |
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You were always unloading, |
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Soft on the weight of your palm and your hand. |
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Bastard with a passport to the old destinations, |
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Bastard with a map of the palm of your hand. |
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You were always: "Shut him out." |
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You were always: |
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Sun, Dash of White Light, |
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A night that has passed, |
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Has passed into the records of all |
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That the little record keepers fear, |
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Dear Mary-Anne, Bastard of Light, |
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I swept your flax bang, I swept into the currents of the river where |
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Judith ain't sure. |
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Oh Man, it was you: did you ever think of a bad idea? |
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Because the river is bad, the river is cold. |
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How was the King, was he sad, was he cold, was he low? |
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Put your hand on my face, row away from the grief-stricken man, |
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Put your trust in my fate, I shall track that abrasive wasteland: |
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We are richer in love, but you know: You just can't have it. |
