The Pride of the Morning

As I walked out in the streets of the morning,

Too young to admire and too old to deride,

I saw the whole city was bonny with fire

And everyone else had suddenly died.

So I walked for a while in the pride of the morning,

Alone, with a strut and a dandified smile,

The king of the fire, the lord of the city,

Flamboyant, alone, and proud for a while.

But alas for the dandy, alas for the king,

Alas for the pride that is nourished on fire-

The flames as I passed them were courteous with

homage,

But my heart wanted someone to see and admire.

My heart shrivelled up in the pride of the morning,

Played traitor, alas, to the dandy and king,

Because I was walking alone in my splendour

And the fire was deaf to the song I could sing.