She was beautiful
She was the fire
She kept me warm until I got too close
She made me hot
And then she burned me
She was the reason all I am now
Is bitter remains and ashes

She was beautiful
She was the flood
She bathed me and made me pure
She made me clean
And then she swept me away
She is the reason all I am now
Is a drowning dying man

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

carving an incisive
incision into the core of
my most potent vulnerabilities

A skeleton structurally unsound
Every bone vibrating with
The echoes of *goodbye