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Requiem 820 Latham
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When I came to you there in that cold Telephone pole horror of the night And you came out to meet me In that filmy thing and sat down on the porch swing And I knew the moon would melt Before I held you to my breast, like that again, yeah Why could I not die then, warm, behind the curtains of your hair When we stopped the clock on that cold rock Mixed our hot young blood with granite dust, And I raised my head to kiss the sweat That hung like honey from your Goddess brow, And I knew the mountain side would be Ten million years of dust and rust before I took you up there again, yeah Why could I not die then, warm, behind the curtains of your hair


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