Some dawn I will wake up laughing,
So crazy in love with morning
I will keep from it my dreams
And bury nightmares in the sheets.

One morning I will open the great atlas
Of places I've never been and walk inside;
Off again, out of his head, some will say—

But heedless down the road I shall dance
A fine Welsh jig, headed cut into
Those beaming benign regions that lie
So far beyond sadness there is no echo.

So it is here we part. You must march alone
Into the swamp of despondency.
I have no sorrow left, and have
Forgotten the forlorn excuses of despair.

So when I bid you farewell,
I will wave and force out a tear,
Careful to cover my mouth
In case it's drawn to smile.