The sun is quitting, it's not the end of my race though night is dispatching savages at a furious pace. Silver and violet shadows run the lawn, I got my antlers in the thicket of a dream where you're gone. You're gone, and I'm not in your heart. You're gone. Black hand painted across my mouth, I'm out of things to say, I am a few feet from myself with a promise to stay. As the wind inclines, the waves hit your dock, my scarf is flapping something wicked like its trying to talk, saying, "You're gone, yeah if you're not in her heart, yer gone. Gone like that pink star, up there in the sky, gone and feeling half-real on the edge of your life." C'mon! C'mon, I can still push air, I'm not an act! Am I invisible to you now? - Wait! - Don't answer that. I'm going to wake up, where I was on your lawn, where shadowy dreams are disappearing in the light of your dawn. Dawn, and am I in your heart? Or gone?