Come In

There will be no end soon

If I've seen things right that have come

People will be scared, they never will see anything

Meanwhile all of my friends have been struck dumb



How can no final thing come

When our faces are pulled from us

How can someone blame who they refuse to name

For pulling other people down with them



Some have risen, they are lucky

To have their fall delayed by people

What they have is threaded, grafted and plotted

Played out and bad



Some have made mistakes for us

Waiting by the door for us

We told them to go ahead, their support is just a weight

Better to sever the weighted limb



Where is it hanging tonight ?

It is not looming to propel us along

We move ourselves to it, one year to sit in dirt

One cycle with which to comment upon the dirt