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The Bell
The clock grinds on, and raindrops fall in time
Strangers find each other
Between lines of sidewalks and streets
Winding on and on and on
Until each moment resides to cease
And the city sighs and sleeps,
By clockwork jazz of smoldering night
My ears hear a distant sound
In the hall of my memory a bell resounds
And the haze of rest is broken
The wheel still turns and mills the mist
Strangers meet, and strangers miss
In cafes lit by candles -
They lean under the shadows -
And remind their first real kiss
Their tongue still tastes the same old bliss
Their windows turn dark together
My ears hear a distant sound
My feet vibrate as the bell resounds
And the quite night is woken
The still streets swirl with scraps of paper
Strangers pass through rising vapors
Alone,
Recalling each mnemonic voice that’s now calling them home
Alone,
In to the chamber of the street
And still they look around and meet the faces of the crowd
And pretend the lost is found
My ears hear clear a distant sound
Concrete cracks as the bell tongue pounds
And the name I love is spoken
The streets fill up in swelling dark
Stranger’s bliss is torn apart
By a sound -
A million faces juxtaposed
A million, not the one they chose
They listen-
As their memory repeats a name
And they wait for it each night in vain
And no other voice can reach them
My ears hear a distant sound
In a bell’s wailing all others drown
And the dreams of life are woken
__________________
Here lies one whos name was writ in water
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