Lindsay,
she told me
that I push them all away.
I push the boys away,
because I'm afraid of what I might feel.
Lindsay,
she tells me
I don't listen to what they say.
No, I don't listen to what they say,
and my trust is down at heel.
Joy and elegance,
she says, but you can't choose.
Then heedless I,
I turn them down, and then I lose.
And then I lose.
And I'll wonder why I lose.
But it's coming down,
it's coming down,
in bristles of rimy white,
the flesh of Father Night.
O it's all coming down.
'Cause I'll build them up
then let them down, she says.
An aloof defense with my
eyes on the ground, and his
retort is to buckle it down
and shut me out.
O but Lindsay, why do I shut them out?
And it's coming down,
it's coming down,
in bristles of rimy white,
the flesh of Father Night.
O it's all coming down
tonight.
