Break some bread The night's been blessed With a neverendingness But none the less End come too soon
Sweet concubine The night's divine In a never ending line Of lovers End come too soon
On the cusp Both of us Without any maybes But musts that carry us To the end too soon
Ink begins to blot My eyes are blood shot They've seen things they wish they had not But it won't stop The end coming too soon
Whose butter fingers read me like brail? Whose dirty mouth would have made Mary hail? Whose wholesome heart had bore down on me? Who ushers dreamers into such harems
Whose skin looked waxen In the failing light? Who down right danced me Like a sailing kite