Sad are the ones
So far from a home
In cities that render
Hearts into stone
But longing won't free us
Wishes can't spring this trap
When the keys are all missing
And the soul lacks a map
Old graves in a choir
-- They struggled here too
Now mutely they lie
So far from Anjou;
Friendless streets filled with strangers
All hard to the bone:
Yes it hurts to discover
The truth about Rome
But the verses we wrote,
All the gold that we spun --
True the tune came from God
At least the words were our own
