BECKON HILL
Saigon fell
And still too young for bars
Annette and Cumberland
Climbed Beckon Hill
And smoked away the afternoon
With a couple joints
Promised to each other
Forever to stay high
And sealed that vow
With a shotgun kiss
Until the future unfolded into the past
From the projects to the nether dunes
And she flew too near the moon
Playing dice left-handed
With Circe and the crones
And he flew too near the sun
Bowling with the Devil and his crew
Chasing stones in the South of France
And all those years
In the upper atmosphere
Took their toll on bone and lung
Now she is singing underwater
And cannot catch her breath
In the sea off Samothrace
And he cannot take another step
Legless in Cyrenaica
Crippled in Saharan waste.
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