We were falling down the hallway
Through a sea of brown and ochre

And our secrets were not so secret
And we were not so nearly sober

And the room got undressed for us
And was singing while we lay
Spinning through nightly songs and soundings
And what would come, come what may

And there was blue in the wintry sky
That frosted quick outside our window

While we were rolling in our suicide
Through the heat, the light and the dark show

And the life stilled in our still life
And was gentle as could be with us
Drowning in love and liquor
In the garden of our forest