The star of the morning And the dark side of the moon Had a moment alone You covered your eyes So the light of the ever-loving ray That gave life to us all Couldn't call you to die On the long Dylan-didup You rolled a cigarette And he thought about grace In a turbulent head With apple seeds falling from oak trees of red I couldn't question the meaning of any of it There was a criminal silver tint To the paper frame glasses Tucked behind your ears With hands that had reclaimed The tremble of your form and ability Stolen in the years Steady now, fill cups of water for bed Still spilling your coffee And burning your bread But ill keep burning brighter Then I ever did And try not to question the meaning of any of it