I was dead since the noon
Boatman'll take me away
Fragile words I said

Like monks in a fray

The station agent sleeps

He cannot explain
How the images slip
How to escape from the pain


All the poets, all the poets, all the poets are dead
We were born into this house with a crack in our heads

All the poets, all the poets, all the poets are dead
Leave your tongue on our discretion and we'll heal all your dreads


I was fading away
I was feeling confused
My ordinary days

Leisured and misused

I've followed the trail

No escape from the line
Deadheads grab by the car
I can hear their whine


All the poets, all the poets, all the poets are dead
We were born into this house with a crack in our heads

All the poets, all the poets, all the poets are dead
Leave your tongue on our discretion and we'll heal all your dreads


Cities tall as god
People short as graves
We're coming with the wind

And we'll leave with the waves

All the poets, all the poets, all the poets are dead

Now I have one more try just to see you pretend
All the poets, all the poets, all the poets are dead
Round and round just like flies on a spider's web


All the poets, all the poets, all the poets are dead
We were born into this house with a crack in our heads

All the poets, all the poets, all the poets are dead
Leave your tongue on our discretion and we'll heal all your dreads