The Mansion

There's no end, there's no glory
There's a slow resounding story
There's no place to feel certain
There's nobody waiting for me
There's no stand of trees, no morning
(There's no lamp, no Sleepy Hollow)
There's a curve without a warning
(There's no pack of dogs to follow)
There's a weird and lasting sadness
(Hot expanse, burning field)
There's no large and lengthy warming

There's no heat, there's no expansion
(There's no shield)
There's no door into the mansion
(There's no mask to wear)
Lengthy warming, sweet removal
Sweet expanse, sweet and substantial
There's no flesh, there's no fingers
In my hair, I see a tunnel
We built walls, tall and solid
Between the treasure and the shovel

I see an inn, I see a fountain
There's a trail over the mountain
There's no wayside, there's no stopping
And the peak is wide and rocky
There's no ceiling in the mansion
There's no waste, no hesitation
There's no crack of dawn, no morning
Just an everlasting warming