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2009-10-03 - 4:43 p.m.

everything was beautiful and nothing hurt
or everything was muddy and nothing worked
flashes and slashes in pots and pans
ruddy little fingers at the end of our hands

blood and guts and guts and blood
mixes with wine in the tumbling mud
and all our houses and all our fears
get buried at last as dreaming nears

what wonders arise, when rising wonders
what great ships sink by the weight of their plunders
and all our thoughts for the narrowing straits
gather at shores where true love waits

everything was beautiful and nothing hurt
grasping hands meet down in the dirt
and all our houses and all our fears
wait with a whisper at the end of years

 

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