Nympholept

After the summer dies the swan
It's something everyone insists upon
Though she was faithful to the end:
Still too exhausted for a final song

We know the trick God never learned:
Could be he suffers with the rest of us
Who have the faces we have earned
God has his bad days like the best of us

All of the life within
All of our slight designs
Will come to this
Morbidity
As you will see...

You will not find here what you seek -
Bewildered by the thing you cannot know
Pale nympholept, you must accept
You made it so

These unremarkable delights
The fickle wind that moves the clouds around
All leave me witless in the sun
Too much for you or really anyone

Here on the razor's edge
Here as the crowds arrive
The benefit
Of all of it
You can decide

You will not find here what you seek
And lost amid the consequence of time
Pale nympholept
You must expect
This cruel decline

They are not long those vivid days
Those days of rage and laughter
The soul is not consoled:
The pain remains
...and what comes after this?

They are not long those fleeting hours
Those hours of consolation
The heart resigned
Still misaligned
And everything will end like this

After the summer dies the swan
Maybe the very last phenonemon
That serves to simulate the world
A spectacle you can rely upon

All of the life within
All of our slight designs
Will come to this
Morbidity
As you will see...

You will not find here what you seek -
Bewildered by the thing you cannot know
Pale nympholept, you must accept
You made it so