The Death of Longing

What relief! To be among men used

To deeper wonders than the waves

Men too proud to mend their ways

What relief! To be among men

Who swore never to stumble

Never to tire, never to waste their

Time by preaching to the choir

But to take this longing

Onto the streets

For that is where dissent

And disloyalty shall meet

For that is where beauty

And necessity shall meet

Now, I have many friends

Like you can't count the wheat

And many are those who shared their

Bread along the river aeeth

And we all shared shelter

Danger and wine too

To join in this

Bloodless birth of hope

For we find neither dignity

Nor comfort in rest like you

And as they threw open

Their orchards

I found you there

Between two rows of tenderness

And two rows of despair

And as they threw open

Their orchards

I found you there

Between two rows of tenderness

And two rows of despair

And now I owe you all

And now I owe you all

Now we are left

Picking up the pieces

Of ideals smothered in pomp

And told to cherish

Whatever lowers and weeps

And blame it on the one

Who rises and leaps

And yet, we shall remain

Among the few

Leaderless men

The only ones to refuse

Th become leaders of men

Who are still strangers

To gloating

Who are still strangers

To loathing

And as they threw open

Their orchards

I found you there

Between two rows of tenderness

And two rows of despair

And as they threw open

Their orchards

I found you there

Between two rows of tenderness

And two rows of despair

And now I owe you all

And now I owe you all