ROHVOL

Let's go out and dance, darling 
our last of days 
and grace the game with a blindfold on 
 
Let's go out and see darling 
what shines tonight 
and temper your dream about the dying horse 
with traffic, noise, and light 
and somwhere the soft-handed boys, 
bleeding hearts, and worker bees 
give to the holy mother begging change 
Christ across her knees 
And how she prays to find a man to blame 
for every loveless night she waits 
and for every gun that she frowned upon but still some fucker made