Lyrics
This haunted place, I keep a room
A pied-à-terre, a pharaoh's tomb
The cantos of my New York years
A scribe in ink that disappears
The autumn leaves that store
The glow of summer then
Invite the snow
It's five o'clock, the sky is dark
The blinds are drawn
The dogs all bark
The bending pitch of siren choir
The cries to find
A crime, a fire
The seeds of hope I throw across the sea
Are kissed before they're tossed
Into the world like random prayers
To gods who don't exist or care
But some find soil and grow and bloom
In fields I find when I've consumed
Too many beers and gotten lost
I speak your name when they are tossed
My, my, my dear, you've scoured the trash for flowers and sparks
That hide in ash
And walk them through the city walls past parking lots
Graveyards and malls
Where roads of dirt are stacked with stones, like skulls that bind the catacombs
Arranged into a shelter shade
To lay, low in
When we've escaped
Like Proserpina's gift of rain
Wringing the sticks
Out of her mane