©1995 Andrew Calhoun, recorded on Phoenix Envy.
I walked through a narrow tunnel,
Where I could not run for fear;
And when I made it through the tunnel,
I called it a year
Please mother don't be angry,
Through I may deserve a slap;
For leaving all your money
In some total stranger's lap.
That's an altar on the mantle,
Just a flower in a vase;
Love and murder in one circle
Show a poet how to praise.
And father, don't be sorry,
It was time that drove us down;
If we return with pockets empty
Of the treasures we have found.
We were steady in the fever
Where the flying things are pearled;
And I believe we touched the lever,
If we could not move the world.
Now lover don't look weary
To find me still so shy;
After all the fire and glory,
There is only you and I.
And if we falter in the fever,
And we cannot keep our place;
Then our blood is of the river
That runs through open space.