It was seven in the morning when the spark
began to give. the bath was spilling over, my
self pity spilling with it, so i, i fled the country
to start it all again and found myself in paris in
the cemetery rain.
dear anne came to me and took me by the arm
showed me old disasters embedded in the palm
warned me of a lady with the sun behind her head.
with a a granite neck, a singer who can never sing
again. but you, my love:
system
warned
spark
singer
shine
shall
shake
seven
schoolboys
running
really
ready
paris
nowhere
these
never
showed
myself
found
behind
stairs
burnt
moving
walking
again
angel
embedded
country
lawyer
always
disasters
began
enjoy
ghost
going
spilling
morning
sorrow
granite
hundred
start
hands
inside
cemetery
marching
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