Anne, let's die in some dim town   My brown eyes wait to weigh us down   The candles 'round the tub will drown,   In our afternoons      Music from our evening parlor   Darker than the autumn hour   I gave my child twenty dollars   For tearing at our moons      Dark damp men muddied our house   In my dreams to bleed your blouse   I smiled from my sleep to douse   The horror of this hour      Our boy on dark hills blurry crawling   His rain-glazed shaking porches falling   The homes of all his friends just sprawling,   Withering like flowers      Anne, I've loved you from a boy   No other autumn could destroy   The town our winds fused to enjoy,   Whispering dark farmlands      Tearing moons, these moons are tearing   Swearing terror inside their daring,   Crumbling prayers, dark autumns faring,   Straight out of our hands