In the corner of the morning in the past. I would sit and blame the master first and last. All the roads were straight and narrow. And the prayers were small and yellow.
When all the world was very young. And mountain magic heavy hung. The supermen would walk in file. Guardians of a loveless isle. And gloomy browed with superfear.
We passed upon the stair. We spoke of was and when. Although I wasn't there. He said I was his friend. Which came as some surprise. I spoke into his eyes, "I thought you died alone.