They drove you toward that fallen highway

You reached that concrete river at dawn

You were scorned by the scores of passing travellers

By night, you were nowhere, but you were nearly gone

You were scared, and you dared not look behind you

What have you cast away, what have you thrown

Where are your friends that you fashioned the dream with

Where are their hands on your collarbones

They are here, they are here

They are here and waiting

They are with you walking, they are with you in bed

Come and let them bring you water

Come and let them hold your hand

And say here is the end of all your troubles

Here is the garden, wet and bright

Here is your seat, beneath the cedars

Here is the young, unfolding night

They are here, they are here

They are here and waiting

Here in the electric air you lost in your youth

Here in the sheets in the shuddering pleasures

Here in your children, strong and good

Here is the end of all your struggles

Here is the garden, wet and bright

Here is your seat, beneath the cedars

Here is the close and holy night

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