Mark Kozelek
Moments
Gently in these ragged folds
Curled up and warm like Easter's child
A breath so faint
Angelic weight

I can't deny
That I drift sometimes
Even in these loving moments

To summery fields I call my own
Where I can lie and in them feel
At one with my death
With limbs outstretched

I can't deny
That I'm weak sometimes
Even in my strongest moments

And the way you cry at me
I don't know why
You stay