and I not a wrinkle not one
         
         
         at the end of the myriads of hours an hour mine a quarter of
         an hour there are moments it's because I have suffered must
         have suffered morally hoped more than once despaired to
         match your heart bleeds yet I lose your heart drop by drop
         weep even an odd tear inward no sound no more images no
         more journeys no more hunger or thirst the heart is going
         you'll soon be there I hear it there are moments they are good
         moments
         
         
         
         paradise before the hoping from sleep I come to sleep return
         between the two there is all all the doing suffering failing
         bungling achieving until the mud yawns again that's how
         they're trying to tell me this time part one before Pim from
         one sleep to the next
         
         
         
         then Pim the lost tins the groping hand the arse the two cries
         mine mute the birth of hope on with it get it over have it
         behind me feel the heart going hear it said you're nearly there
         
         
         
         be with Pim have been with Pim have him behind me hear it
         said he'll come back another will come better than Pim he's
         coming right leg right arm push pull ten yards fifteen yards
         you stay quiet where you are in the dark the mud and on you
         suddenly a hand like yours on Pim two cries his mute


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