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At the platform's end, where the crowd grew thinand the light was dim on our shoeswhere we sat there so tense,not to touch though we meant to (I think)There was no will, no spellto breach the night and stop the talkShe tossed her hair and home did walkBroken radioBroken radioOn the day that I was bornthere was no big flash and no great stormbut the man read the news in Dutch and warned,"I'm gonna play 'Je T'aime' on my hunting horn."In my cradle I was most impressed--So this is what you call successBlack Seamus cried, "My shamrock has diedand my father's gone back to Peru."The frost-damp town wore a fat-guts frownand the DJ's played Brian BorùThe Sunday's sticky, home with rainSedition never entertainedBroken radioLetras de cancionesBroken radioMurder the past and all who sail in itIf the past is a wreck then all who sail in itmake me realize it's time to move onbut all the ships and the planes have goneI'm in a savage place with a timid songMumbled words...[maybes?] From Letras Mania