Whatever's done to gold
Say this day or your eyes
Smelted with silver
Whatever's done to silver
So it descends from clouds
Unavoidably a river
A moon-lit crossing
Running through the ground
Whatever's done to travel
So it becomes this wandering
I still want to keep going
Hope is the last body we'll ever have to wear
Though it's too loose and itches
You look as beautiful as ever
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