Oh, the street light was growing thinner
And the colors of Sunday were dull
When I heard your poetic visions
Pounding deep inside your skull
And sorrow wrapped around your shoulders
Along that beast of loneliness
And nobody cared to warn you
As you climbed those hotel stairs
After having your dinner alone

Well, you remember that wild horse
That was running along the train
To you it was a race of a lifetime
While to him it was only a game
Now you try to find someone to tell you
What's real from what is not
Yes, your voice it's quite strong but
It fails to call for anyone
And then you close your door

Oh, the windows are filled with frost
And time it passes slowly
You know there's no god in here
And only so much is holy like
Love which is brought from her throne
To the tide where she's left to drown
Or freedom that's put in her casket
As crows try to bring you down when you
Lift up from the floor

Well, Isadora and her silhouette are
Reflecting from the mirrors
She dances her forbidden dance as
Tears dry upon her pillows
And the whole street looks like kennel
While cathedral bells they're toiling
And people move aside for the dogs
Who go to heed a warning that the
Last vagabond poet fell

If someone is willing to read and comment... =)