Regret sings loudest, at the end of days
When we've learned all the stony declensions of sad
Grown new lives; but discarded grown-up ways
And can someone tell us what we just saw in that play
The one where we lost our fabled innocence;
How could there ever be an encore, for that?

With fever incipient, we've weighed our losses;
Rooms where nobody will ever confess
How we are responsible for nefarious things
Born on the darkening wings of night,
For a farther sun shines, without any shadow
And lights the world, when we've said goodnight.