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en dessous de cette tombe modeste un conqueror se trouve
je les ai offerts tout l'adieu
basculé dans le berceau du profond
le vieil ouest, le vieux temps
ville qui n'est pas une ville
complètement des larmes
la fille, art de thou viennent pour mourir
le mouvement de votre corps est comme la musique
une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
laissez le bel unsaid de mots
ma mère me tortille des roses humides avec la rosée
ne restez pas plus

 



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