I was better off last night
Groaning on the floor.
I was a hero in some unrecorded war.
But just as Ovid said;
The mouth that bears the wound
Shall open to a thousand lovers more.
Every mouth contains a sigh
In each sigh a song.
Mine was A Feather Resting on the Breath of God
The bird that gave it up is choking on a worm
And I can only sigh for his lost song.
Over on the other side of the night
I will answer to the calling dawn
So are you at your best again
Since you left your lowland singer?
Did he sing his best for you
Abandoned Love, Desire too?
Did you sing together?

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