The west rests alone at moments of rise,
while holeproof hosiery and midnight rhymes
        were built in these momentous afternoons.

we won’t look to the west when the sun comes to rise,
  instead we’ll stand staring at white lined horizons,
      with hands and breath held
               as if this moment would transcend time,
                                                     leaving us there,                 on the roof top, forever.

                                                     And all too often
                                               In the dark we’ll dance
                                                        too blinded by
                                                    pollution of light
                                                             to notice
the stags in the corner.
No one ever looks to the west during a sunrise.

We won’t look to the west when the city stirs,
                                        no, not when the dust rolls in
                                               covering our lives like
                                                 Father Hooper’s veil;
separation from the world,
                             but drawing closer to its ways and evils.
                                              We’ll talk about change,
                                                                 hopes
                                                           and dreams,
                                      And feed our kids the same ****.
they’ll know right from wrong,
but no one looks west when the city stirs.

We won’t look to the west ‘til the sun fades,
                             And all existence is demanded its notice.
                                        Our cities in darkened silence
                                               forgotten, as brilliant
                                          flashes of red fill the sky.

                                                These aren’t the songs
                                                for future generations
                                               To sing, or sing about.                                    
                                           These are songs that begin,
the time we turn to the west to watch the sun fade.