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Mothering Sunday (Legion Legion)
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After the bed, and the death swirls And the purpureal magnificence Of the Psychopomp who came And the sun who ran with joy Twisting all the red-green leaves I reach, by eye, through window pane And saw you gasp out your life in starts: "Are you a man, or are you a mouse?" What strange last words to leave The lips of one who may be damned Or may be saved, or may be lost What, in the heat of Your mind's last seizure Did you see? Or did you mean? Where the night was inoculatŠµd by legion... The world is legion, Šµverywhere In the last lick of night The last taste of black On my lips, pink swizzle foam As the helicopters stutter through the long corridors Down we go. We're in London, we are legion The sickness that waits in the heart or in the hole And the lights are always on in your eyes But in your heart, they were clicked suddenly shut
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