I have heard the cry of a ghost in song,
His languish splayed before me, his guitar and voice
Upon my eager ears, his somnolent touch
Raps on my soul, as if to be invited in
And nestle close with Sir Drake and the victory rose,
All awash in sweet, undying, mercurial
Peace, there within my heart
They wrestle to be my cantor
To lead me Into sublimity, into peace
Where I shall surely find some tranquility
Amongst Elysian notes and strums
From a godly Telecaster I know well
The champion Mr. Buckley cries out
His lost Grace from across the mortal void.
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