Lights above the summer fair reflect on tins of Super
And there within a sublime madness, I find my lifelong stupor.
Drunk, cry, drink, sky, on our backs in laughter;
But this disparate, foolish love of mine is nothing you are after.
Bass, hearts, twilight, beat; that soundtrack cuts me still,
Above the fair, out of our minds, upon that wind of ill.

                                                                                     TS Lefort 1987