| By the time we’re done with dancing
|
| Elsewhere darling you’ll be glancing
|
| And the night’s a river-torrent tearing us apart
|
| Merely melody entwined us
|
| Easily the ties that bind us
|
| Break in fibrillations of the heart
|
| Don’t cry out or cling in terror
|
| Darling that’s a fatal error
|
| Clinging to a somebody you thought you knew was yours
|
| Dispossession by attrition is a permanent condition
|
| That the wretched modern world endures
|
| You drift away, you’re carried by a stream
|
| Refugee a wanderer you roam;
|
| You lose your way, so it will come to seem:
|
| No Place in Particular is home
|
| You glance away, your house has disappeared
|
| The sweater you’ve been knitting has unpurled
|
| You live adrift, and everything you feared
|
| Comes to you in this undoing world
|
| Copper-plated, nailed together, buffeted by ocean weather
|
| Stands the Queen of Exiles and our mother she may be
|
| Hollow-breasted broken-hearted watching for her dear departed
|
| For her children cast upon the sea
|
| At her back the great idyllic land of justice
|
| For exilic peoples ponders making justice private property
|
| Darling never dream another woman might
|
| Have been your mother
|
| Someday you may be a refugee
|
| A refugee, who’s running from the wars
|
| Hiding from the fire-bombs they’ve hurled;
|
| Eternally a stranger out-of-doors
|
| Desperate in this undoing world
|
| Mother for your derelicted
|
| Children from your womb evicted
|
| Grant us shelter harbor solace safety
|
| Let us in!
|
| Let us tell you where we traveled
|
| How our hopes our lives unraveled
|
| How unwelcome everywhere we’ve been |