Born into giving it up, then, closing
down when it's done with hardly a moment to
spend before getting it back again: the longer
you leave it, it's harder to see it like I was going
to show (it's from something before, I know.)
Whatever I said I might, o, I take it back tonight.
It wasn't in my hands.
I tried just to feel it, though, I knew I believed
it. Trust me, I know where I am (but, how many
turnarounds can you stand?) in the hours we hold!
How many times were we sold? I thought it
was healing, but I still wasn't dreaming,