Spleen - Sabaoth

When the cold heavy sky

Weighs like a lid

On spirits whom eternal boredom grips

In day time darker than night’s eclipse.

…and without drums and music

Long hearses pass by slowly

In my soul.

When the world seems a dungeon damp and small

Where hope flies like a bat in circles reeling

Beating his timid wings against the wall

And dashing out his brains against the ceiling.

…and without drums and music

Long hearses pass by slowly

In my soul.

When trawling rains have made their steel-gray fibers

Look like the grilles of some tremendous jail

And a whole nation of disgusting spiders

Over our brains their dusty cobwebs trail.