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's 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 and 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