Sharp and silent in the
Clear October lighting
Of a Sunday morning
The great city lies;
And I at a window

Victor was a little baby,
Into this world he came;
His father took him on his knee an
'Don’t dishonour the family name.'
Victor looked up at his father

The piers are pummelled by the wav
In a lonely field the rain
Lashes an abandoned train;
Outlaws fill the mountain caves.
Fantastic grow the evening gowns;

For us like any other fugitive,
Like the numberless flowers that c
And all the beasts that need not r
It is today in which we live.
So many try to say Not Now,

Say this city has ten million soul
Some are living in mansions, some
Yet there’s no place for us, my de
Once we had a country and we thoug
Look in the atlas and you’ll find

And the traveller hopes: “Let me
Physician”; and the ports have nam
The citiless, the corroding, the s
And North means to all: “Reject”.
And the great plains are for ever

A cloudless night like this
Can set the spirit soaring:
After a tiring day
The clockwork spectacle is
Impressive in a slightly boring

Time can say nothing but I told y
Time only knows the price we have
If I could tell you, I would let
If we should weep when clowns put
If we should stumble when musician

If all a top physicist knows
About the Truth be true,
Then, for all the so-and-so’s,
Futility and grime,
Our common world contains,

Among pelagian travelers,
Lost on their lewd conceited way
To Massachusetts, Michigan,
Miami or L.A.,
An airborne instrument I sit,