The Last Living Rose

Goddamn Europeans

Take me back to beautiful England

And the gray, damp filthiness

Of ages and battered books

And fog rolling down behind the mountains

On the graveyards and dead sea-captains

Let me walk through the stinking alleys

To the music of drunken beatings

Past the Thames river, glistening like gold

Hastily sold for nothing, nothing

Let me watch night fall on the river

The moon rise up and turn to silver

The sky move, the ocean shimmer

The hedge shake, the last living rose quiver