Some have said you will be better off than half-dead
When you are all the way gone
Ugliness, all the more obvious
In the dramatic, high-profile ones

But if it's not just you
People try to hold on too tightly to
Or to push away...

Well if you play guitar like me into the wind
You might not always know where to begin
But you will also know something to calm your nerves
Oh that it doesn't really matter

Far far away life will begin
And the might of night will scatter
Everyone you know falls into the fray
You'd see your teachers fight against the dark and shatter
The damp, heavy disappointment of the wasted day

You write an idea
That is simple
In 1000 words
And then
Put it out
Into the pasture
For its retire-
Ment

The heavy lamp of disappointment
Cranes its arm to shadow over the stage
Cranes to brighten the shadow
Of the doubt of the sage
The doubt remains but the distortion
Washes it out in a fuzz of clay
The doubtful sage returns to his pattern

Of taking his life for granted in full
Expectation of being set free someday
But when sorrow comes to fall
He will not resist the pull
The saviour watches from the window
He/she will resist the pull
From the window is watching
From the window of a distant house somewhere
Maybe far away
The night is beautiful and rustic and grey
The rain is rustic, the fields and pastures
Are a deep dark grey