The Mansion

There's no end, there's no glory There's a slow resounding story There's no place to feel certain There's nobody waiting for me There's no stand of trees, no morning There's a curve without a warning There is weird and lasting sadness There's no large and lengthy warming There's no heat, there's no expansion There's no door into the mansion Lengthy warming, sweet removal Sweet expanse sweet and substantial There's no flesh There's no fingers in my hair I see a tunnel We built walls, tall and solid Between the treasure and the shovel I see an in I see a fountain There's a trail over the mountain There's no wayside, there's no stopping And the peak is wide and rocky There's no ceiling in the mansion There's no waste no hesitation There's no crack of dawn, no morning Just an everlasting warming