Candle

God,
there's a candle burning for me
lit by a face I do not know
and she thinks I might die
now that everyone is gone
now that everyone is gone

I would like to play ring around the rosie with the flame
like to let the snowflakes decorate it in a circle
my  bed is too large
the mattress is thick with memories
it seems you keep them packed
where I cannot reach
where I cannot reach

just across from my pillows
many hands call me their lover
some I know, some I don't
but they all listen to the tones of my coughing
like great symphonies were being written
like they'd be there incarnate in the morning
like they'd be there incarnate in the morning

and I'd trade all of the dreams I'm having
for a simple daytime reverie
and my candle has burned up the moon
the miles of cement I've walked
have used me for my steps
no street has sent a postcard
no bosom of highway left to suckle
I just hope the mugger on Brunswick ave.
has forgiven himself 
at least for Christmas
only I, looked into his brass eyes
only I, looked into his brass eyes

so the flame has finally gone out now 
even the smoke is in no one's eyes at all
it seems the fever has ended too
and the tissues by the bed have turned into wings
in all of the black ice below
the people there don't even know they're slipping
as they're going down
as they're going down

let's cry awhile together God
over by something you've made
over by something you've made​