Thread
song
I
come to you
when
the day has been dark
and
my night grows long
and
my words
my
words have come down
and
touched on the ground
of
all our possibilities
on
the sound
a
poor heart makes
on
the end of a phone
in
an Irish port
when
there's no one alive
or
above in heaven
listening
or
if they were they couldn't hear
your
cry
they
are such words
as
no active sense can be made of
and
no course of action
could
resolve
neither
now or never
only
now we know
there
is no end
of
string
and
no resolution to
the
lives we lead
or
to the songs we sing
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