Grace Cathedral Hill
(Indisponível)
Grace Cathedral hill, all wrapped in the
bones of a setting sun, all dust and stone
and moribund. I paid twenty-five cents to
light a little white candle for New Year's
Day. I sat and watched it burn away then
turned and weaved through slow decay.
We were both a little hungry, so we went
to get a hotdog, down the Hyde St. Pier. The light was slight and dissapeared. The air, it stunk of fish and beer. We heard
a superman trumpet play the National
Anthem.
And the world may be long for you, but he'll
never belong to you. But on a motorbike, when
all the city lights blind your eyes tonight, are you
feeling better now?
Some way to greet the year: your eyes all
bright and brimmed with tears. The
pilgrims, pills and tourists here all sing
"Fifty-three bucks to buy a brand new halo."
I'm sweet on a green-eyed girl, all fiery
Irish clip and curl, all brine and piss and
vinegar. I paid twenty-five cents to light a little white candle.
And the world maybe be long for you, but he'll
never belong to you. But on a motorbike, when
all the city lights blind your eyes tonight, are you
feeling better now?
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