To Autumn
Here's another vision to blind me
Another ambition to bind me
While memories holy still wholly
Disappoint, and choice is illusion only
I've spent all my rage on myself
I sentence my childhood to dwell
In the room of the exile hotel
Where first conceived now let it die as well
A plausible promise you're due
One way or another I'll fail you
Forgive me though I know just what I do
Forgive me I know just what I do
Here the honeymoon ends
First we break, then pretend
We have still room to bend
Is this it? Yes.
No odds on who's leaving next
My faith's gone the way of all flesh
Redressed in our Eden best
We resurrect our tears and fears and yet |
In beds we can hide our scars
Lethe cloak of some loving arms
Pray those arms forever stay that way
Babe, babe, now who's feeling brave...
Here the honeymoon ends
First we break, then pretend
We have still room to bend
Is this it? Yes.
Base boredoms of sex
And its noble pretexts
Oh such petty regrets…
Is this it? Yes.
This isn't this isn't this isn't this isn't rage
This isn't this isn't this isn't this isn't rage
This isn't this isn't this isn't this isn't rage
This is what comes next.
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