Clothe the sore warm
Leave only the pain ON when you sleep
This is your life, this is your way home
I once read about the dying elephant
The crying never heard;
where's the rest of me?
What's left to wheel me through the days is especially gauzy
But you could read me, oh!
you could light me on if you glanced backwards
And look where we are, look at the time trickling away, unmindful of us
The ghost in me wants you;
the devil in me wants me, has me, tries me
But the angel in you wants something else!
