The world's gone beautiful because it's about to die.
I never saw such flower faces or so intent a sky.
I never heard such lines from horns or violins,
Or saw such lavish girls, such dandy boys,
And I know why.
It's that the world is asking not to die.
I never saw such hands flexing like silver leaves,
I never knew such air, or leaned to so good a breeze.
Even the tears I cry, they aren't salt but clear,
For sea birds riding the wind calling their last,
Their wild goodbye.
The world is asking not to die.
I want to hold this world and never let it go,
I want the sun to always rise on the kids next door.
Whether I go or stay, that question still abides,
Posed by rainbows in the river spray.
What answer do you give
A world that asks so bitterly to live?
