he's hiding with the whispers
that once led him astray
embraced only by the fears
that are too old to decay
they trapped him in a re-run
of the perfect memory
then left him alone to die
in their calm and angry sea
he's still collecting feathers
with his imaginery son
he taught him all that matters
is that she was the one
he's tired enough to wonder
what else might go awry
while he's wide awake and screaming
his own lullaby
he's gloating, cheering,
tongue-in-cheek,
and he's arming up
for yet another last defeat
he's reaching for the tunnel
and the luring light back there
and he's running downhill singing
"No retreat, baby, no surrender"
No retreat, baby, no surrender
No retreat, baby, no surrender
No retreat, baby, no--
.
