the Ending is Also Pretty Amazing..

Now I’m hunched over a typewriter
I guess you’d call that paintin’ in a cave
And there’s a word I can’t remember
And a feeling I cannot escape
And now my ashtray’s overflowing
I’m still staring at a clean white page
Oh, and morning’s at my window
And she is sending me to bed again

Another Travelin’ Song, Bright Eyes

I Have This Tattooed In My Heart.

Laugh out the meager penance of their days
Who dare not share with us the breath released,
The substance drilled and spent beyond repair
For golden, or the shadow of gold hair.

Distinctly praise the years, whose volatile
Blamed bleeding hands extend and thresh the height
The imagination spans beyond despair,
Outpacing bargain, vocable and prayer.

For the Marriage of Faustus and Helen, Hart Crane

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