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Vega Suzanne Nine Objects Of Desire Casual Match I only turned to see What hand had set this inner field alight Against the flame I see The outline of a man against a night Take back your sympathy I do not need to drink that bitter stuff I'd rather break the thread That bound us close, and say we called a bluff A casual match In a very dry field What could be The season's yield? My eyes have gone to coal It's nothing I would be concerned about Observe the moment When the heat of love becomes the chill of doubt A casual match In a very dry field Fire and ash Is the season's yield We look for a sign But it is not revealed Fire and ash is the Season's yield |
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