Rosey, in the light of dusk And searing freely around the rigging Feels like something's on the cusp, Something marvelous just beginning. Now I'm stood upon the sodden soil, And I'm toiling over this hole I'm digging Should I knock it downright dead, Or quietly bury it while it's still living? Fractured, black, my poor heart was struggling Wept all over it and rusted the casket shut Then solemnly, to the cemetary to lay it underground No song, nor psalm, no serman, no sound And who is it who through his cowardice Has sickened and withered it? My lover; brother confidant and friend Don't hesitate, don't slacken pace, And never look over your shoulder. I will follow on as planned, And we will meet again before I am much older.