Oh, dissolute and feckless youth

When wiliest thou surrender to all that is given

Wiliest thou not seize with both hands

All that is offered and granted freely to thee

The boundless pounding rhythm that rises in thy chest

Does thou not recognise all that lays

In rich and fertile soil

Beneath the crust of barely hidden dust

 

Wilt thou not lift thy face and greet the sun

That draws and sucks the rose from the very earth

Or whilst thou lay in thy cot

Until break of noon

Buried in the cold and dampened husk

Of an old man’s lust

For all that he can no longer have

In the land of retribution and regret

Whilst thou wait for beard and freckled cough to grow

 

Or whilst thou rise up from slumbered bed

Raise thy banner

And declare that thee still have life within thy limp

And shrunken bones

Hark, what is this hearty greeting I hear from thy sullen lips

 

Yeah whatever