A gale of psalms from the chapel doors Some trembling song stretched heavenward And carried on the cold wild wind Lingering in March Steadied hand on steady glass A toast to absent company Bartered blood and borrowed brass While outside sirens sing Left at last call Dreamed a dream by the old canal He slept through the night And they came and they traced him in white On Ash Wednesday So midnight falls still and black As silent as that maker's hand That left you reeling, left you cold When your weary world it woke The phone dropped to the floor in the kitchen The TV was flickering, hissing the news Some far flung half truths But home's where the heart is And home's where the hurt is too I left at last call Dreamed a ghost on the 44 In amber light, the city sleeps peaceful tonight On Ash Wednesday