The Crime

GAR, BA Lit,
3rd poet of Avalon,
exiled to the broken bit outside Imperium,
Not for any mischief,
Just enormous indifference in song.

You are the people, the people are you,
Need I say more?
I showed you my back and you showed me your door,
Now you don't know how to open it anymore.

I suppose I'll get used to it after some time,
The soil is ridiculous, they make a good wine,
The weather comes bracing when it isn't just treating you fine.
But I feel I've grown older here and not to the wise,
Everything just hurts a little more,
Except for the lies,
and when the truth comes I cannot disguise my fear.

You are the people, the people are you,
Need I say more?
I showed you my back and you showed me your door,
Now I don't know how to open it anymore.

If I mocked my metropoli, pilloried the pillars
of an edifice in search of a cliff,
With my rank and profession
so far in recession,
is it even a question of if?

There are days I'm reminded, as I gaze on the harbour,
Of a younger man blinded
and spurred on by ardour
for all things eternal,
But when you know that you're mortal,
You just can't afford to admit.

City you are the people, the people are you,
Need I say more?
I showed you my back and you showed me your door,
Now we don't know how to open it anymore.