Letters From Rimbaud - Marnie Stern

In Greece, as I’ve said

Verse and lyre set the rhythms of action

And afterwards music and rhyme are games, pastime

Everything grows

Cause anything goes

We cannot know

Because we are inside it

Everything grows

Cause anything goes

I’m almost the island

I’m almost the island

In Greece as I’ve said

Verse and lyre set the rhythms of action

And afterwards music and rhyme are games, pastime

Keeping only quietness

We gather, we gather, we gather, we gather

We gather up the fruit of the mind

Pen pushers and authors always full of numbers that crumble

The poet is truly the fire stealer

The poet is truly the fire stealer

The stealers, the stealers, the stealers, the stealers, the stealers

Everything grows

Cause anything goes

What do we remind you of?

And when you come around the show

You’ll never make it up that fast

When no one else considers more

And I can tell you one more thing

You’ll never come back here for more

There’s nothing but a broken stand

And lovers crouching on the floor

Everything grows

Cause anything goes

We cannot know because we are inside it

I’m almost an island

But not quite yet

I’m almost an island

But not quite yet