as the singer discretely hums 
the needle joins the seams 
the fabric of the schemes that the music becomes 

as the photons fade 
i find i cannot sleep 
we cannot keep all the promises we've made 

the wellness i feign 
every day of the weak 
in the words that i speak to escape the pain 

we never guessed 
as the footlights fade 
the scripts that we made for the time we have left 

still the singer discreetly hums 
and we cannot yet sleep 
so remember to keep what the music becomes 


(c) 2005 Bill Grundmann

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