I am gone can't waste more time, I said not quite joking.
The fire has gone, the big trees stand, the underground is smoking.
Remember nothing you've been told, means anything to me,
and everything you hold, is mine in the barest degree.
I walked up to the park, the lion rock was weeping.
Remember nothing you've been told, means anything to me,
and everything you hold, is mine in the barest degree,
in the barest degree.
The days draw long, to long to count, cushioned by the wasting.