gray trains
Lonely saxophonist, let me your horn and play
Your soft, low notes though the end of the day

Rabid violinist, with your taunt and tawdry strings
Strike that fiddle hard and fast until it screams

I, of course, will dance, swinging my soul to and fro
Screaming, "Yes, yes, yes!" all the while thinking 'no'

It will be the dead and the buried beneath our feet
The still silent beating of their hearts keeping the beat

While it is not dirges that we play dirges they will seem

For a love story cannot have a happy ending
For some scars are far beyond mending
For we cannot keep the holy forever pure
And there is some sickness time will never cure

As important as these words sound; they are not what we mean

So let's hear that deep baritone, that high harpy wail
As my legs stomp into the dirt and my arms flail
Until we forget that we'd always remember
Remember that we could never forget
The sweat on my face identical to the tears in your eyes
Indistinguishable from our hands resting on her thighs
Being swept away in that otherworldly bliss
Contained within one slow simple kiss

Though corpses our only audience seeming
The dead do not stop our show from gleaming
Even the rain could not stop our celebration
Though death must follow life
Filled with all of this strife
Hope like, in all living remains exaltation