Mention of the stars reduce us back, They, about them, have time's things hanging; We are around near the railroad track Checking out the thundering. Names you call could have been ours To call and live among them; Friends come by and spend some hours And then back down to working... At night, things come and half a life, Not so silly walking, All different clothes in the half light And a halting way of talking. There really was one way to be, Yet this is not it, we think, To be such younger folk as we Not levelled as we drink We're busted up, so ragged down And kissing and subsisting; Our eyes glint wild and roll around And the dog, he whines insisting, He asks that we allow the sex To make us unrecognizable; That we allow slow violence To prove us rebaptizable.