Memory is an abstract painting
The formlessness of our summer days
And the terrible aloneness of 4 A.M.
Clinging like cobwebs
In a quiet dream world
Warm and passionate and sun-golden
Yet illusive as smoke
Perfect ugliness of phony bravado
Creating sorrowful background music to the world
That had lost its boundary lines
The time was waiting for you, you will not come
Fabricating one great impulse toward destruction
It was more eerie than complete darkness
Memories combing like a fresh water-color painting left out in the rain
Foul and crumbling
Leaving you with a grotesque caricature
