Errant heat to the star and the rain let in.
The hawser rolls, the vessel’s whole – and Christ, it’s thin.
Well, I know that you’d offer, would reveal it, though it’s soft and flat.
Won’t repeat it, cull and coffer’s that for the soffit.
Hang this homeward.
Pry it open with your love,
Sending lost and alone standing offers.
It is steep, it is stone, such recovery.
From the daily press, the deepest nest, innkeeper’s keep.
All the news at the door, such a revelry.
Well, it’s hocked inside of everything you said to me.
I ain’t living in the dark no more,
It’s not a promise, I’m just gonna call it.