Fathom the angst, disappearing grace Illusions of ease, perceptions of scorn Inaudibly versed, ascetic clatter An oath plagued by thirst, a false face to flatter The dead air below, sand stalls the house Men count the time so novel and sour, so novel and sour Surrender yourself and thrive, said the wind Swell said the sea Grow old willow tree Lift the copper from the eyes And lift the silver from the tongue Shed the skin, so gracefully Inaudible verse, ascetic clatter An oath plagued by thirst A false face to flatter In my silence I'll atone And in my absence I'll collapse Here I sit on the pyre With all the things left unsaid In paintings and vestiges, vestiges Paintings, vestiges: Aesthetic clatter And oath plagued by thirst A false face to flatter
