The Silver Cord

Do you still see me
Even here?
The silver cord
Lies on the ground
And so I'm dead
The young men said
Over the hill
Not a wish away

My friends, as one
All stand aligned
Although their taxes
Came too late
There was a rush
Along the Fulham Road
There was a hush
In the Passion Play

Such a sense of glowing
In the aftermath
Ripe with rich attainments
All imagined
Sad misdeeds
In disarray
The sore thumb screams aloud
Echoing out of the Passion Play

All the old familiar choruses
Come crowding in a different key
Melodies decaying
In sweet dissonance
There was a rush
Along the Fulham Road
Into the ever Passion Play

And who comes here
To wish me well?
A sweetly scented angel fell
She laid her head
Upon my disbelief
And bathed me with
Her ever smile

And with a howl
Across the sand
I go, escorted by a band
Of gentlemen
In leather bound
No one but someone
To be found