It was half-past can't say when,
Been to Hell and back one weekend.
No, Death was a dim-witted soul,
Lo! But he wasn't grim.
Asked if we could meet again,
Some other time, another place.
Oh, no, it wasn't cheating,
Just the nature of competing,
I was simply twisting fate.
Oh, with a new moon dripped a steady stream,
I knelt and watched my face,
Caught the last train north, way up north,
With the cold wind giving chase.
Oh, all the night was clear,
The air was crisp and clean,
The great beyond all pistol black, the white serene,
Oh, when morning broke,
We woke to such a scene.
Well, I stumbled round for days and days,
Walked my shadow to the ground,
Well, I stirred the waking sun,
But I was not the only one
With bloody fists or blistered tongue.
Well, a thousand points of light cut through
The great storm in the sky,
Sunbeams somersaulting down,
At twice the speed of light.
On her hands criss-crossed,
All the clocks on the walls told different times,
And the cheap red wine splayed all the tiny
Fragments in my mind.
Oh, the caterwaul of crooked little chimes,
Ringing out of tune,
Yes, ringing out of time,
Oh, the symphony!
The cracking of the trees,
The crashing of the waves,
The quaking underneath our feet,
All in perfect pitch and key,
Just the nature of our kind.
