The Sedge Has Withered (You Speak Alone)

The Sedge Has Withered
(You Speak Alone)

It’s always a bit of a desert
When you speak alone
People chatting in the chamber
But you speak alone

Is it your own burial
Or is it your birthday
You speak true no denial
But alone on your way

I think I’m a musician
Waiting for a set list
I think I’m no patrician
To be elected

It is time to go home
Time to leave the party
It is time to go home

Time to be alone

You don’t think you’re crazy
When you speak to the trees
Are you walking the garden
Cause you’re some kind of warden

You don’t know why you speak
You can shout and laugh
Never mind the topic
Arguing as for a piece of loaf

The sedge along the river
Has withered like said Keats
But I can hear some birds sing
In this head of paper

Back to the chamber
To the lake and the river
Stranded in some shipwreck
Drawn the curtains against the disaster
(no this is no mistake)

It is time to go home
Time to leave the party
It is time to go home

Like Kierkegaard or Poe

Copenhagen, 13th of September 2020.

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