It was all very nice
Maybe even polite
Not like the riot of color and texture and sound that ensued
You set a fire in the pines
In the dead of the night
To see the fury and wonder and fight back the disquietude

You were quoting Montaigne
And painting with light
Genius at work is a wonderful sight to behold
You were quoting your pain
On the meaning of life
But pain is the author of too many stories we’ve told

Torn apart by horses 
We have always been at war with self
A river changing courses
Cannot bid itself farewell
Have mercy on us

It was all too profound
Yet not profound enough
Why tell ugly truths when a beautiful lie will suffice
You can write all this down
Cursed be love
It’ll get what it wants when it has no regard for the price

Torn apart by horses 
We have always been at war with self
A river changing courses
Cannot bid itself farewell
Have mercy on us

Torn apart by horses 
We have always been at war with self
A river changing courses
Cannot bid itself farewell
Have mercy on us
Have mercy on us
Have mercy on us