Every night, I walk down to the lips of the my town
Quiet as the stark knife edge, simple as dust
I will get lost, once, tens, a thousand times
Counting meters and turns to the forbidden home
I will waste days and days to glimpse the blackness
Peep by the fence, disappear behind, watch the door
Touch the sweet blue dryness inhabiting the windows
I can stroll a hundred hours, all alone in detatchment
You do not know. You are never awake to see.
Every night, I pray. Everyday, I look for God's fair face
In wild men, in sullen men. In the keen red eyes of hatered
In my own beloved misery. God is in the ashes,
God leaves footprints in the graveyards
Watches the playgrounds from afar. God is in tyrant boredom
When trees shuffle, and all else leave

God is not here. Like a cannon ball, I toss the lowly soul around
I wash her face by the storm, I pull her along into malls
Lights take her astray, music suffocates her
In the night, every night, I am a shady wanderer
Wandering as a worm, looking for sweet
And no one no one no one is here