White Night

I haven't locked the door,

Nor lit the candles,

You don't know, don't care,

That tired I haven't the strength To decide to go to bed.

Seeing the fields fade in The sunset murk of pine-needles,

And to know all is lost,

That life is a cursed hell:

I've got drunk On your voice in the doorway.

I was sure you'd come back.

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