The shells of cars have been sucked dry And junked in heaps toward the sky Their owners gone beyond all fear of censure But the particles of safety glass Sprinkled in the ruined grass are vivid With all the songs I wove for my beloved For you alone will be my last adventure The planes have dumped their angry clouds And draped the trees in wasting shrouds That cut back the varieties of tincture But still there falls a healing rain Softly on the land in pain and livid I mean the songs I wove for my beloved For you alone will be my last adventure The unmanned empty freighter moored Against the high wall of the fjord Will put to sea before the worst of winter Against the silence and the cold The broken figure in the hold is covered By all the songs I wove for my beloved For you alone will be my last adventure You alone will be my last adventure You alone will be my last adventure
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