| From hotels in the middle of the night | |
| I'm calling you out | |
| To candles cling tentative flames | |
| But they burn just the same | |
| Just in case you forget | |
| Sick in the silt of the strangest taste | |
| I've hated today | |
| Still something sings within the vein | |
| I forget to fail | |
| I forget to complain | |
| How much more can we stand to stay | |
| Before clouds complain | |
| Soaked to that critical stage | |
| With the overdressed words | |
| Of the well-meaning vague | |
| How much will the Leitmotiv sway | |
| To compensate for our fallow-yet-vigorous play | |
| On this century's take | |
| On the lived-but-yet-named | |
| Hold out, hold out | |
| Because this moon is twice as good | |
| When you see through a year of nights | |
| What you thought you understood | |
| Set out, set out | |
| Because this haze is bound to wane | |
| It can no longer pretend to hide | |
| The will of third-class seats on tomorrow's trains |
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