SO LATE IT’S EARLY AND I’VE OUTLIVED GOOD SENSE
This need I feel for you
is like waiting for one last song
where you’re so desperate for music
that even the morning wind
starts to sounds like a symphony.
I felt so much sorrow all the time.
Everything headed to heaven or hell.
I should have known better.
Should’ve remembered there were more
than just the lonely records to play.
Time’s a right record, innit?
Right round…right round.
Time’s a recording for all time.
I think we just might get to play it all back again.
So I wanna make it good and
make it the best it’s ever been
and I won’t save all this magic
for the turn at the poem’s end.