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"Moonlight on the water is how I think of you." She said, "That's just your way, And all your pretty words won't make me stay." "Anyway," I said, "it's true." And the moon was a hook hanging in the sky, The wind was tragic and low, Moaning through the wires like a tremolo; All it said was goodbye. "The water around me is a black guitar." She looked for something to hurl, "It's a mighty long drive back to the world -- I didn't mean to come this far." "The star is not a star in Orion's belt, A cloud where something is born. Maybe down the road the lights will be warm. Tell me something you felt." She walked away down to the sand, She wanted something to save; She knelt down and cupped the waves, The moonlight swam in her hands. The flying horse high overhead and bright, Wheeling around to the sun; "There is no constellation for what we've become, And there is no star to make it right." The moon swung low and she took her keys, She was dressed for the road; "Well, take care of your heart and its heavy load, Or leave it here safe with me." "Oh, you know it's too late," the wind whispered free, I was the only one who heard; She kissed my cheek and said, "Give me your word, Keep yourself well for me." I said, "I see the tracks all through the night, The stars leave on the sky -- The archers and the queens and the swans flying high." I did not hear her reply. "And where do you belong, out in the land, Where the walls and the wills make you doubt; Are you kept in or are you kept out, When the world puts out its hand?" She stole away under the wind, Cloaked like a thief in the night; "Well maybe you're wrong and maybe you're right And maybe you just pretend." She drove away to the black guitar, Her lights were diamonds on the bridge; The tremolo dove and brought down the pitch, She faded into the stars.
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Copyright © Thomas Anderson, Angry Young Grad Student Music