I pray under the light of tinted glass,
Scan telescoped horizons for your mast
With gulls on the shores of all my lunatic chores
Wary as complacency makes passes,
It's late, my lover, should i let it go
Could offerings to crumbling shrines persuade?
I blow a kiss to Erato, she turns the other way
While crows on the wires stalk my carrion mind,
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Feeble as my apathy advances,
It's late, my lover, should i let it go
Unglued as i wait for your cue
Lark on the wind, do you have nothing to sing?
Even as the irony enhances
I'm amorous in your absence
It's late, my lover, should i let it go
Or wait for you in my anxious hope?