SO MANY THINGS ARE
GONE NOW I AM LOST
I no longer contest anything, it is
all beyond me. Everything you say
is true. I am a sorrowful mole.
Even Angelo, so right, rises to
tell me to not apologize for being
alive. I wish I had the strength
to give him back my Self. It's
a powerful love, this living.
I find myself forgetful now - I
can't remember how it's said: 'Why
is the bass player always the dumb
one?' Or is that the drummer? See,
I just do not know any longer. It's
a powerful love, this living, yes,
but it lives in an upstairs dormer.
Beyond the shades of night are
the shafts of day : thin lines of light,
breaking through all the cracks.
Simply because, simply, as Leonard
Cohen put it. 'that's where the light
comes in.' It's a powerful love, this
living, and I want it to grow again.