On the windswept dales of limestone Karst
See Emily play
A romantic farce
Heathcliff searches
For a Wuthering lust
The window glass shatters
Life returns to dust
But true love never dies
As the darkness fades to light
My soul is yours to keep
Bill Burroughs is writing tonight
My love she sleeps in Cham
In a bed of Norwegian wood
My heart is buried somewhere
Under Dylan’s old Milkwood
On the melting tarmac of Kerouac’s road
The sun now rises
On Sal’s paradise load
Dean Moriarty sleeps
His heart trips a beat
Life it still creeps
But true love never dies
As the darkness fades to light
My soul is yours to keep
Bill Burroughs is writing tonight
My love she sleeps in Cham
In a bed of Norwegian wood
My heart is buried somewhere
Under Dylan’s old Milkwood
On the frozen streets of forgotten Oslo
Knut Hamsun he tries to write
But words are just a show
As the hunger eats within
From Kafka, Joyce and Camus
His life is full of sin
But true love never dies
As the darkness fades to light
My soul is yours to keep
Bill Burroughs is writing tonight
My love she sleeps in Cham
In a bed of Norwegian wood
My heart is buried somewhere
Under Dylan’s old Milkwood
On Woody’s slow railroad train
The hobos beg for dimes
His broken voice remains
In another singer’s song
His tune plays ever onward
Bound for glory all along
But true love never dies
As the darkness fades to light
My soul is yours to keep
Bill Burroughs is writing tonight