I remember the wine And your tomes of wonder But no nursery rhyme In the book of hunger And as you clung to a twine In your final slumber I said: this leads to a kite Up in the wild blue yonder Follow the moon, Wind in the Willows In the hollow coriander clouds Dance in the mist across the asylum Where the sirens echoed in the snow Beyond the afterglow You must, you must believe in magic And we danced in the hall of Madeleine crumbles Through Joyce's The Dead and The Lass of Aughrim A sea spell in the the dark for the late Rosetti You were alive as a lark with a thorn of black confetti in your eye Follow the moon Melancholia