And there are no sins inside the gates of Eden
They whisper in the wings
Into the ditch of what each one means
But still remains
But these to tell what's true
The gray flannel dwarf to scream
With a time-rusted compass blade
Upon the beach where hound dogs bay
And then complains
A two-wheeled gypsy queen
And I try to harmonize with songs
To those condemned accordingly
There are no kings inside the gates of Eden
At dawn my lover comes to me
Who pick up on his bread crumb sins
On their promises of paradise
Unto the shoeless hunter who's gone deaf
Alladin and his lamp
The motorcycle black Madonna
Relationships of a ownership
All except when 'neath the trees of Eden
The lonesome sparrow sings
At ships with tattooed sails
And her silver-studded phantom cause
Side saddle on the golden calf
To wait for succeeding kings
With no attempts to shovel the glimpse
Upon four-legged forest clouds
Heading for the gates of Eden
And tells me of her dreams
Sits with Utopian hermit monks
At times I think there are no words
The savage soldier sticks his head in sand
Though its glow is waxed in black
All except inside the gates of Eden
As he weeps to wicked birds of prey
You will not hear a laugh
With his candle lit into the sun
The cowboy angel rides
