an ode to angelboy

Well, the moon's hanging on the moors And midway to heaven when It lures all the green and blooms That hide in the crooks and croons of the mangled floor To show themselves plain and howl "Leave us, villainous loom" So as the grave glowers at the blue, and the cottongrass complains He'll say, "Mustn't we be leaving soon? With the moors so estranged?" But now I think I'm perceiving why wolves yowl at the moon Even make a fine impersonation of them Whining after you And now the sun's crouching on the hem Of the meadow's stitched limbs As it mounts on the stirring sky With the dawn end to end to the dim and the dusk, then The breathing of the wind As it says "Morning, beloved friend" So as the shadows skitter in contempt From the light's autumn bend As the needles are condemned to shed And mute all the ends Is when I think I'm perceiving why Leaves trip from the stem Even make a fine impersonation of them When I dance with him At first the chatter creeps in Mmm All regal and thin, mmm But soon the weaving of his voice frays 'Til it's how I once knew it When I'd chase its trailing threads like a cat with a ribbon And now I think I'm perceiving why there's cheshire grins He even made a fine impersonation of them When I sang to him And I'd talk to him like my bedroom mirror Been a love like the stains on my arms Because they've always been there as long as I can remember And I couldn't picture them gone Told him love is the effort, and He deserves something like the sun's loyal, everyday fret Cause I've always envied his vigor and steadiness And I'm just the blink when it sets But now I think I'm perceiving why he loathes weather changing And its inevitable goodbye Hope we make a bad impersonation of it This time