This place is damp and ghostly
I am already gone
And the halls were lined
With the disembodied and the dustly wings
Which fell from flesh gasplessly

And I go where the trees go
And I walk from a higher education
(For now, and for hire)

It beats me, but I do not know
And it beats me, but I do not know
It beats me, but I do not know
I do not know

Palaces and stormclouds
The rough, straggly sage, and the smoke
And the way it will all come together
(In quietness, and in time)

And you laws of property
Oh, you free economy
And you unending afterthoughts
You could've told me before —

Never get so attached to a poem
You forget truth that lacks lyricism;
And never draw so close to the heat
That you forget that you must eat, oh...