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lyrics
Everything silent
went out with the rain
as I leaned over the past
Now, the present sounds violent,
wrestling in
through the window again.
I felt sorry
to have ever convinced
such a heartache as you
to make, in this past-tense heart,
a trembling cave
you had no place to be,
with nothing to do or to see.
Lord, I could count
all the thin-ribboned rain
--I left up the window
and froze all the same
While I was a byword
for bedridden shame
I saw the future maimed,
bent like a wick to a flame.
God felt sorry
to have ever released
the cold crow in me
to feed on a carrion-love;
to sit ‘neath the sill
and see out the sun