passing tones
works in progress. works in regress.
We’ve grown weary of these lonely hours
And the blisters from paging through
The black psalms in the morning papers
The rats have run wire through
Our unfinished mazes
Creating
A world without end
Buried deep
So the rot can set in
And oh! It will
Then the violins fell out of tune
And the meaning was lost on you
Now we’re all back where we started
The foundations of our ruined homes
Collapsed in your absence
Now the vagrants beg
For pity and alms
How we all
Fill our palms
And oh! we will…
Until the children sing
LOUD
Just once.