Fog and Saints

I say I’m made of marble

Though I’m made of glass.

I shatter at a whisper;

I whimper as you pass.

You take me to the river,

And drown me ever well.

You’re watching as I shiver;

It’s best that you don’t dwell.

You say that you’re a scholar,

You claim that you’re a saint.

You grab me by the collar,

The scents of liquor faint.

You beat me till I’m nothing,

You love me till I’m sore.

But darling, which is real love?

I can’t tell anymore.

Lay me down in the ocean,

The water cold and deep;

And let me drift, my darling.

O please just let me sleep.

Tomorrow I won’t waken,

My lungs will have no breath.

I’ll think of you in living,

Remember you in death.

I’m not so fond of gravestones,

So you can leave mine bare.

Someday you will come join me,

And I will meet you there.

The place of wake and dreaming,

The place of fog and saints.

Our eyes are ever gleaming,

Our love nothing can taint.

So lay me in the ocean,

The water cold and deep;

And let me drift, my darling.

O won’t you let me sleep?

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